


Old Magic, Undesired

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 83,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5865904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie finds himself the victim of family magic unknown, and can't bear the thought of his life ahead.</p><p>Written in 2010.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was somewhat of a battle when I tackled it in 2010, because the thought of Mpreg turned my stomach. It took a lot for me to write but by the end of this, I was incredibly proud of this fic.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Accidental and unwanted MPreg, Angst, Language

“Mr. Weasley?”  
  
 _A thin body, pale, smattered with dark hair._  
  
“I know this is a shock, Mr. Weasley, but please try to concentrate. This is a very special occurrence.”  
  
 _A flat he didn’t recognise, smells that were not his own. Charlie was so drunk.  
_  
The Healer looked at him worriedly.  
  
 _The dark bedroom, the bed not even lit by the moonlight flooding in through the uncovered panes_.  
  
Charlie sat in stunned silence, unable to do anything but blink through the memory playing in his head.  
  
 _Frantic kissing, hands wandering everywhere, so thin and cool compared to his hot lumbering fingers. Being touched everywhere, keening to the feel._  
  
“Would you like a calming draught, Mr. Weasley?”  
  
 _Frantic kisses turning to a frantic fuck, both of them reeking of desperation._  
  
“Just leave him for a moment,” the MediWitch whispered. “It’s a big shock.”  
 _  
One climax, then the other, both bone-melting. Two hoarse cries, panting, sweat trickling over clammy skin._  
  
In his mind, Charlie envisaged the front door of the flat slamming behind him when his one night partner had requested that he leave, and he jerked out of the memories. What they were telling him couldn’t be true. It couldn’t.  
  
“I don’t understand,” he croaked finally, looking up at the Healer. “You’ve got to be making this up.”  
“Honestly, I know this is hard to hear, Charlie,” the Healer switched to first name terms. “But your symptoms, even if I didn’t have the medical proof here,” he waved a hand at a file which contained Charlie’s health history, “The vomiting, tiredness, emotional state… I would have instantly looked towards pregnancy.”  
“Has nobody noticed that I’m a bloke?” Charlie knew his words were futile, childish –but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.  
  
“Which is why you’re so special,” the MediWitch spoke gently. “There is old magic in your body, Charlie. If you had been made aware of it, you might have protected yourself if you truly didn’t want this.”  
“Why didn’t I know?” Charlie frowned, dropping his eyes to his knees.  
“Well, for some reason, your family have not told you,” the Healer said delicately. “Either that, or they didn’t know themselves. This could go generations back into your family history and these… this type of magic hasn’t always been looked upon as the miracle that we view it as now.”  
  
“You,” Charlie said pointedly. “ _You_ look at it like it’s a miracle.”  
“In time you will as well,” the man gave him a smile.  
“No,” Charlie shook his head, curls bouncing everywhere as he did so. “No. I don’t want this, I want a termination.”  
  
It felt so surreal to sit there and say those words, which he never even thought he would hear a woman say, seeing as he was gay. All he could think of was losing the newly claimed baggage hidden deep in his belly.  
  
“I’m afraid that the law won’t allow you to do that.”  
“What?” Charlie’s eyebrows lodged into his hair.  
“You are special, Charlie. Your child will be special. Do you really think that the ministry would let something this rare go?”  
“So what, I’m stuck like this?” Charlie gestured down at his belly.  
“You wouldn’t find a Healer in the country who would perform it,” the witch sighed. “And to go to anybody lesser would be madness for your health.”  
“And trust me; you won’t live through a male miscarriage.”  
“But I don’t… I don’t want a child!”  
“I know this is tough to hear,” the Healer sighed, leaning back in his chair.  
  
Charlie wanted to point out that unless the man had ever been told that he was carrying spawn in his apparently special male womb then no, he had _no_ idea how tough it was to hear. He actually felt like bellowing that point across the small office, but losing his temper, usually so well held, would do him no favours at that point. So instead he simply sank his face into his hands and groaned.  
  
“And I’m not quite sure how to um… well. Your job, it is very physical, isn’t it?”  
“I work on a dragon reserve,” Charlie whispered in horror, knowing what was going to come out of the man’s mouth next.  
“Too dangerous, I’m signing you off for the duration.”  
“You sign me off for that long and I won’t have a job to go back to,” Charlie protested.  
“I’m sorry, Charlie, there is no negotiation on this.”  
“So, baby, unemployment, anything else?”  
“We strongly urge you to contact the father.”  
  
“Why?”  
“He’s the father of a baby that rarely comes up one in a hundred years!”  
“I doubt he’d care,” Charlie looked away, smoothing his hand over his chin and his lips.  
“Still, don’t you think that it might be prudent to give him the opportunity?”  
“I don’t… I’m not exactly sure who it is,” Charlie lied through his teeth.  
  
He knew exactly who the father of the child in his belly was, because he was the only man he had been with in the past three months, and they estimated he was only one and a half gone.  
  
“We have the results of the paternity test here,” the Healer said wisely, patting the folder. “We routinely perform them when we test these days, it’s simply easier than half of the wizarding population requesting them down the line.”  
  
Charlie swallowed uneasily. “May I see?”  
“It’s your file,” the Healer shrugged and pushed it across the desk to him. Since he had not expressed any enthusiasm at all about his predicament the man had noticeably cooled towards him, and Charlie just didn’t understand how any body expected him to be pleased.  
  
Who could hear the news that they were one and a half months pregnant, with another man’s child, when men didn’t get pregnant, and the man had been a one night stand, they weren’t allowed out of it and they were going to lose their job because of it, and be ‘pleased’? The question was on repeat in Charlie’s mind but he managed to prise open the file, seeing the officially topped St. Mungo’s parchment and seeing his name in black ink, and then his blood type, age, weight, height, hair and eye colour. His stomach flipped seeing the word ‘pregnant’ next to ‘status’.  
  
And then his amber-brown eyes alighted on the words he was most scared of –‘paternal father’. He really didn’t need to see the words; he knew it would be that way. _  
  
Fuck. And I’m a maternal father. How messed up is that? Christ._  
  
“I’ve put together some information for you,” the Healer slid another file across the table. “Take this away with you, read it, get yourself over the shock.”  
“No drinking, right?” Charlie murmured.  
“Or anything else recreational you might be party to,” the Healer narrowed his eyes.  
  
Charlie defiantly met them. He hadn’t smoked in at least three years but it was on his records after a nasty chest infection when he was twenty-one. There was no way he was going to be belittled by the Healer over something that was in his past.  
  
“And so… right, what about the birth?”  
“Well you’re not going to grow female anatomy, if that sets your mind at ease.”  
“ _Nothing_ is going to set my mind at ease,” Charlie breathed miserably.  
“Basically we will just remove the child and heal you. It won’t be a natural birth but then this isn’t particularly a natural pregnancy, conceived by magic, mainly.”  
“Will it… be normal?”  
“Yes, just the pregnancy is abnormal. But there are generally pre-requisites with a pregnancy like yours, the child will be male, and it will carry the same abilities that you yourself will.”  
“I thought you said it only ran through second sons?” Charlie frowned.  
  
“The patterning is systematic,” the Healer sighed. “Your mother gave birth to you, but the gene has come to you through the line somewhere. It often works that a second child finds he has the gene, and then gives birth to a child. That child will have the choice to embrace his difference, or he can simply couple with a woman and then the gene is passed on until it crops up.”  
“Why only in second boys though?”  
“I have no idea,” the Healer made a face. “One of those things magic fails to explain.”  
“Why couldn’t anyone have told me?” Charlie moaned. “I would never have… I was using the right protection, or… fuck… I thought I was.”  
“Your family really may well not have known,” the witch said kindly. “They will be just as shocked by this as you are, I’d guess.”  
  
“And so now what?” Charlie shrugged. “I just take a note into work, tell them I’m off for nine months and to manage without me, and then… make my life with a child? I have no idea how to look after a child!”  
  
They both stared back blankly at him. He didn’t know why he’d bothered to ask, he knew they wouldn’t have answer. With a loud exhalation of breath Charlie resigned himself to the truth that he should never have gotten out of bed that morning, except for the fact that he’d had to, because he needed to throw up. And then he’d had a letter requesting his presence at St. Mungo’s at eleven.  
 _  
And that’s it. Life over. A fucking kid. I’m still one of those myself._  
  
At twenty-eight that wasn’t particularly true, but Charlie didn’t want to argue with himself.   
  
“Thank you,” he said finally, placing his medical file back on the desk and picking up the one that they had given him for information and slipping it into his bag.   
“We’ll be in touch for a check-up in a month, but you must come back if you feel unwell. I meant it when I said that a male miscarriage is a very dangerous thing. Should anything happen, that child has nowhere to go…”  
  
A shudder passed down his spine and he nodded. “I understand.”  
  
He shook their hands, not feeling the touch of skin on skin, and walked out of the office. Clinging somewhat desperately to the strap of his bag over his shoulder, he slouched down the corridor, hearing for the nearest exit. Outside the British summer was in an unusually good swing with stifling heat and blue skies. He was only wearing faded jeans, ripped at the knees, and a t-shirt which accentuated his muscled arms and chest.  
  
 _And your gut. Gut which is going to grow because there’s a fucking baby in there. Godric’s balls._  
  
He passed out of the hospital lobby and walked through the back of the old department store’s window. Sunshine blared into his eyes as soon as he stepped through and he squinted, rummaging in his bag for his sunglasses. But when he had them on his face, and he looked at the busy London traffic stationary in the congested road, he didn’t know where to go, or what to do.  
 _  
Walk. Just fucking walk. All you can do._  
  
Purposefully Charlie strode to the pavement and walked looking at the nameless faces of the London populace.  
 _  
Fuck it, I want a beer._  
  
***  
Three hours later saw him still gagging for a beer. He had stood outside the doors to no less than four different pubs, all full of workers enjoying a drink in their lunch hour, but couldn’t put a foot over the threshold. Every time he tried he was grabbed by a terrible guilt and in the end he gave up, choosing instead to apparate home to Ottery St. Catchpole and walk slowly back to his parents.  
  
That had been half an hour before, and he found he could get no closer than the boundary fence. His back was to it, his knees up in front of him, bag on the floor next to him. His head was against the wood as he looked at his family home, trying to work up the courage to go in and speak to them. Without much coercion, his mind slipped back into a memory.  
  
 _The pub was full to bursting, people enjoying drinks after work. Their voices all mingled into simultaneous loud chatter and Charlie normally loved that kind of atmosphere, but that evening he just wasn’t up for it. Locked in an uncharacteristically bad mood he just wanted a drink, which he would down, and then he would leave again to start the long journey back to Romania.  
  
If he didn’t love his job so much he would leave –the travelling killed him every time. He made it to the bar and waited five minutes to be served, the babble swamping his tired mind. Taking a deep breath he tried to reel in his emotions.  
  
Someone knocked into him from behind and he growled in frustration, head snapping round to throw an equally out of character glare behind him. But then he realised who he was glaring at.  
  
“Christ, I thought you were…”  
“Obviously not.”  
  
Charlie stared._  
  
Cursing his mind’s stupid ideas, Charlie shook his head and looked at the house again. It looked so unassuming, so comforting. He had been born in that house, because his mum had never quite made it out of their bed before she had an extremely easy birth with him. The easiest, she had always told him with a fond smile as she ruffled his hair and kissed the top of it. She still did that despite the fact he now towered over her, not even being the tallest of all his brothers.  
 _  
And how is she going to react when you go in there and tell her you’re pregnant? That you’re going to… have a baby. Fuck._  
  
He just couldn’t get his head around it. All he could think of was the bitter irony that he’d been given the opportunity to top and he’d passed, thinking a good hard fuck was just what he needed to get his tension out.  
  
But in the long run it only served to bring him more.  
  
 _He was moaning as his throat was kissed, hands ran amok all over his stocky frame and made his skin tingle. His partner was moaning just as much and Charlie wondered if maybe the man was every bit as desperate for human touch as he was. He threw his head back and gripped harder with arms, bringing the dark-haired lover closer, squeezing him until there came a pressured grunt. Lips claimed his and they battled for dominance.  
  
“Top or bottom?” the voice was a low drawl which sent delicious chills across Charlie’s skin.  
“Bottom,” he breathed._  
  
“Charlie?” a voice called.  
  
Found sitting oddly against the fence, Charlie tried to marshal his face into a smile and desperately thought of a cover story. Ron was looking at him with a curious look on his face. His little brother was finally all grown up, standing tall and broad shouldered at twenty. His good kid had grown into a good man and Charlie couldn’t even be that upset by his presence.  
  
“Hey,” he gave him a tight grin.  
“What’s up?” Ron shifted his bag on his shoulder.  
  
He was wearing his Auror robes, clearly calling in on the family home on his way back from work.  
  
“Nothing, just enjoying the sunshine,” Charlie lied.  
“You’re sitting in the shade,” Ron pointed out, chucked the bag on the floor and followed it down. He immediately began shredding at the grass like Charlie could remember him doing when he was little. “You look a bit… pale.”  
  
Considering that his skin was nearly completely covered in freckles, that was saying something for Charlie, and he sighed. “Yeah, I know.”  
“What’s going on?” Ron frowned at him.  
“There’s nothing going on,” Charlie shrugged.  
“And you’re a really bad liar,” Ron smirked. “Like I knew that when you told me that merpeople didn’t exist so I’d feel alright swimming in the pond,” he jerked his head in the direction of the deep pool where they had all learnt to swim as children.  
“Yeah but that was a lie for your own good,” Charlie found it easier to smile with Ron there.  
“Why are you even home? I thought you were going to be in Romania for a few months?”  
“Yeah I had to come back… some health stuff.”  
  
He cursed his honesty as worry blossomed onto Ron’s face. “Is everything alright, you’ve not been badly burned, have you? Charlie?”  
“I’m fine,” he insisted. _I am anything but fine._  
  
What happened next was so fast that he couldn’t explain it, but Ron leaned over and made to poke him in the belly, which had always been their way of worming secrets out of one another. But before the finger could make contact Charlie’s hand flew through the air and snapped into a painfully tight grip around his brother’s thin wrist. Ron gasped in pain and threw him an anguished look.  
  
“Fucking hell, what’s the matter with you?” he hissed, trying to tug it free, but Charlie couldn’t make his fingers unlock.  
“Ron… I…” he suddenly felt very dazed; the last thing he needed was a nausea attack then and there. “Look. I need to talk to mum and dad.”  
 _  
There goes your hiding it plan._  
  
Charlie didn’t see how he could hide it. He had always been an open soul, telling his parents, family and close friends everything important about his life, his feelings… he never had trouble expressing himself.  
  
“You’re freaking me out,” Ron narrowed his eyes worriedly. “Come on,” he jumped to his feet, not mentioning another word about his wrist, which had to hurt, and thrust out the other hand for Charlie to take.  
  
He wobbled on his way up; Ron steadied his shoulder before reaching down and picking up both of their bags and shouldering them.  
  
 _He doesn’t even know and he’s already treating me like porcelain._  
  
He nearly snorted at that, the thought of anybody treating him like he was delicate enough to break. His stocky frame meant that nobody was ever gentle with him, even in loving playfulness, and that was the way Charlie liked it. But there was something in Ron’s body language which gave off a careful nature.  
  
“Are you… is everything alright?” Ron asked quietly as they neared the kitchen door. “Not in trouble, are you?”  
  
 _Fuck, should be me having this conversation with him, advising him not to knock Hermione up. This is all so, so wrong.  
_  
***  
“Oh God!”  
  
His mother stood up and rushed from the kitchen, her face streaming with tears, and Charlie closed his eyes and hung his head.  
  
“Charlie, I’d best go after her,” Arthur got to his feet, but first moved around the table, ducking to throw one arm around his son’s chest and squeezing. “But I’m with you one hundred percent, alright? There was no way you could have known about this… any of us… I’m so sorry.”  
  
He gave another squeeze and then was gone; his footsteps could be heard hurrying up the stairs of The Burrow to find his wife. Only then did Charlie let out the breath he was holding.  
  
“You’re lying,” Ron said quietly, making his older brother jump.  
“What?” Charlie forced his eyes open –he hadn’t seen any point in asking Ron to stay out of the conversation, after all, he was the one who had just nearly had his wrist snapped, and had stayed respectfully quiet throughout, not saying a single word.  
“You’re lying, you know who the father is,” Ron leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.  
  
Charlie was torn then. He never lied to Ron. He lied to Bill, at school, saying that no, he _wasn’t_ smoking wizard pipe weed behind the greenhouses. He lied to Percy that girls _did_ find horn-rimmed glasses attractive. He had lied to the twins countless times, telling them people _were_ out of the house and common room so that they might remain safe from pranking. He had lied to Ginny about having headaches to get out of being her test dolly for beauty treatments. But he had never, ever lied to Ron. Their bond was just too strong.  
  
“You don’t have to tell me who it is,” Ron said softly. “Just say that you know. They probably didn’t notice,” his sapphire eyes flicked up to the ceiling. “But I did.”  
“I know,” Charlie bowed his head. “And I don’t think me telling him would make a blind bit of difference. He was a… I was drunk, he was drunk, we were both desperate…”  
“That sucks,” Ron sighed candidly. “I’m really sorry, Char. I’m so sorry.”  
  
Charlie realised something then; that Ron was the first person to say sorry to _him_. His father had apologised for not informing his son about his heritage, but he hadn’t known to be able to do so anyway. The Healers and hospital staff had all been excited, despite his personal horror. But Ron had just said sorry for his situation. It felt like finally someone understood.  
  
“I don’t want it,” he breathed. “I don’t want this, I don’t want a kid, its part of the reason I fuck blokes!”  
“We’re a big family,” Ron’s voice was tentative. “If you can’t face it, Char, there’s going to be someone amongst us that can.”  
“Give it away?” Charlie looked up at him, alarmed.  
“We’re family,” Ron chewed his lip nervously. “It’s not giving… your _child_ ,” the thin young man very obviously stopped himself from saying ‘it’, “away…”  
“I can’t,” Charlie automatically shook his head, not knowing where the words were coming from. “If I can’t terminate now I have to see this through… I don’t want to give the baby away to mum or one of you lot, and then never be able to look at it, knowing one day it’s going to ask who its parents are…”  
“Okay,” Ron assured him. “Okay. But whatever you’re doing, you’re not doing it alone, right?”  
  
Ron’s smile was true and warm and Charlie suddenly realised just how much there was to be said for large families.  
  
“Cheers,” he looked down at the table, his cheeks blushing.  
  
 _You never blush. Nothing bothers you. Nothing except getting fucking knocked up.  
_  
“So… you going to tell everybody else?” Ron asked, getting up to drop the kettle on the hob.  
“I can’t keep it from them, Bill especially… he’d be really hurt if I did.”  
“Plus you know how fast gossip travels in this family,” Ron was pulling out mugs and teabags.   
“Yeah so I… fuck. How am I going to tell them?”  
“Like you told us,” Ron looked at him over his shoulder. “I know mum’s crying, but she’s just… worried for you. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know. Why would a bloke bother with contraceptive spells if it’s generally common knowledge he can’t get pregnant? I wouldn’t’ve, if I had been you.”  
“I hope you bloody would _now_ ,” Charlie muttered bitterly.  
“Well if I ever decide to bat for the other team I’ll keep it in mind,” Ron snorted.  
  
Charlie sat in pensive silence as he listened to Ron making him a cup of tea, another nurturing measure which made his little brother more like his mother with every single movement. They even held the teapot the same way. But Charlie wouldn’t point that out.  
  
“Thanks,” he said appreciatively, as Ron set a mug down in front of him.  
“Back in a sec, taking these to mum and dad.”  
“When did you turn so considerate?” Charlie managed a half-true smile for Ron who flipped him the finger before picking up the mugs.  
  
Curling his fingers around the hot china, wondering quite why everyone was still drinking tea when the ground outside was hot enough to fry eggs on, he was grateful to Ron’s mothering side. He heard feet descending the stairs and he vowed to ask Ron things about _him_ on his brother’s return, rather than sitting talking about his own miserable failure. But it wasn’t Ron that stepped back into the cluttered kitchen.  
  
“Charlie?”  
  
His mother’s voice was wavering and with complete trepidation he turned to look at her puffy face.  
  
“Yeah mum?”  
“I’m sorry, Charlie,” she sniffed. “I’m not crying because I’m disappointed in you, honestly –it’s just such a shock. I would have been less shocked if you’d come home and told me you were straight!”  
“Even now, mum,” he pushed back his chair and got to his feet. “Not gonna happen.”  
“And I wouldn’t want it to,” she glowered at him. “You wouldn’t be happy.”  
  
Charlie didn’t want to point out that with a child tying him down he wouldn’t exactly be jumping for joy anyway, but he knew she could see it in his face. She held out her arms and he willingly went to her. His mum was always so warm.  
  
“It’s not the death sentence you think it is,” she whispered. “I know it’s hard, and I know, Godric, that this is going to be so hard for you… not to work, not to do anything… you’re my little danger seeker, you always have been –though Ron gave you quite a run for your money.”  
Charlie snorted, “Probably why we always got on so well. Kindred spirits.”  
“He’s never had your need to stray so far from home, though,” a small hand smoothed over his back. “But Charlie… I know you’re scared. Who wouldn’t be? You can admit that.”  
“I’m a dragon keeper,” he muttered. “Scared isn’t in my vocabulary.”  
“For dragons, children are another matter, but they’re not _that_ different.”  
“Mum, I can’t… I don’t want to do it.”  
“Your father is going to head into the libraries tomorrow at work and check the Healers are being truthful about the law. See if he can find you a loophole. But I… I don’t think you should take it, even if there is one.”  
“You want me to have it,” Charlie sighed.  
“That’s your child,” Molly said simply, “And I would love for you to keep him, just as I would for any of my boys and girl.”  
“But I don’t even… I’m not good with kids!”  
  
“I disagree,” she pulled back, a smile on her lips. “I can distinctively remember you, and Ron –sometimes Ginny too, curled up in that armchair in there,” she pointed to the one which could be seen directly from the kitchen, “And Ron wanted nobody else to read to him at all, just you. Nobody apparently did the voices like you did. He was heartbroken when you left for Hogwarts and even though he was older, it happened all over again when you left for Romania.”  
“Are you trying to make me feel guilty?” Charlie’s voice cracked.  
“No!” she was immediately apologetic. “I’m just trying to tell you that you loved it with him, he was always your favourite… and he loves you all the more for it. It can be like that with your own child. What’s in here.”  
  
Her hand fell, like he knew it would, over his stomach.  
  
“Its work,” he took a step back and looked out of the window. “I can’t face the thought of losing my job because of it. That’s my career over, mum…”  
“It doesn’t have to be.”  
“What kind of father leaves a child behind when he can go out and be burnt to a crisp or mauled to death on any given day in the name of a salary?” he huffed.  
  
His mother fixed him with a proud look and said, “Well, Charlie… he probably shouldn’t. I know this isn’t your choice. But everything happens for a reason.”  
“Yeah, because nobody forgot to leave a fucking footnote in a will to explain the possibility of a second son getting fucking pregnant!”  
“Language,” she immediately scolded. “But yes, it would appear your father’s side of the family were terrible at record keeping.”  
  
***  
Still awake at four in the morning, Charlie was laying flat out on his back looking at the ceiling. His hand rested auspiciously over his tummy. Charlie didn’t particularly remember putting it there but the warmth was nice, regardless. Sleep was evading him like it had for the week since he had learned about his condition.  
  
 _It’s not a condition you twat, it’s a pregnancy. Be man enough to call a spade a spade. A child shaped spade._  
  
Everyone had now been told, apart from the man who fathered the baby in his stomach. His brothers had all been shocked, then slightly horrified, and then supportive. Bill especially had tried his hardest to find comforting words but in the end all he could offer were his arms.  
  
The reason Charlie found himself lying awake was the fact that he found himself increasingly nervous about the next two days. For some idiotic reason he had convinced himself to go and speak to the father of his child. And then in a double whammy of unhappy conversations he needed to go back to Romania for a couple of days to explain everything to his bosses in full. He wasn’t sure which of the two meetings he was dreading more.  
  
Shifting slightly the lumpy mattress of his old bed prodded uncomfortably into his back. The sickness was worsening but his mother had busied herself in brewing him anti-nausea potions which had worked for her, and seemingly they worked for him too.   
  
_This is daft. You should get up and find a sleeping draught, there’ll be no handling this if you’re not up to speed._  
  
Letting out a loud breath of air Charlie heaved himself out of the bed, his eyes catching Bill’s, still on the opposite wall, like it had been for years. It felt odd to sleep there and not see the long form bent so that the attached feet wouldn’t dangle over the end. Normally when they returned to The Burrow they were there for a reason, a family event or sporting outing. To be there without him was immensely lonely. He was currently the only child at home. Ron lived with Hermione, Ginny lived with Harry, Bill with his wife, Percy had his own flat and George half-haunted the flat above his shop. So he was spending his days with very little chatter to make, contenting himself with a daily routine of waking up mid-morning, on account of his trouble achieving sleep, taking three hours to read the paper, eat breakfast and be sick, and then help his mother out for the rest of the day.  
 _  
And run away from your niece when Mum looks after her._  
  
He looked disinterestedly out of the window as he blushed his shame at running away from a one-year-old. But he couldn’t look upon the incredibly sweet little girl without thinking of his own predicament, and though the physical aspects clouded his every day life, he was trying to ignore what was in his stomach as much as possible.  
  
There was no loophole. By law he was required to keep the child growing magically in his belly, and that was that. He had never held much hope; there was no crushing blow when his father delivered the results of his research. Charlie reached up and dragged his fingers through his tangled curls and swallowed. The next day might go down as the most difficult in his life, topping Fred’s funeral. He dearly wished he could be braver about the prospect.  
  
***  
It was odd, walking through the streets, seeing witches and wizards bustle about their business, knowing that in his stomach he held a phenomenon nobody knew about. The sun was still hot in the sky and he was sweating, even though he wore nothing more than his trademark ripped jeans and a t-shirt.   
  
_Probably should have dressed smarter, considering what he’s like…_  
  
But Charlie wasn’t sure of anything considering the father of his child. The man had lived through a war, nearly died, picked up the scraps of his life and begun again. There was no doubt in his mind that his news would be completely unwelcome.  
  
The shop front he needed came into view, the dark fronting giving an insight to the occupying soul inside. Why the man had chosen to open up his own business selling Potions, Charlie didn’t know. It would have made more sense for him to disappear into the ether.  
  
Charlie paused, nervously clutching at the strap on his bag.  
  
 _What are you even doing here? Nothing good will come of telling him this._  
  
The truth was that Charlie had no idea why he was standing outside Severus Snape’s shop. One night in the week he had lain awake, considering his options. When the dawn rose he had been convinced that if their situations were reversed, he would have liked to have been given the choice, the choice to be involved his child’s life.  
  
So there he was, standing in the middle of a lane off Diagon Alley. But he found his feet wouldn’t move, at least not forward to the shop door, and so he retreated to the cool shade on the opposite side of the pavement.  
  
***  
The pattern continued throughout the day. At first he retreated to The Leaky Cauldron for lunch, but it made him feel ill. Counselling himself with every mouthful, he managed to go back afterward, and nearly made it to the door. But then his indignant side kicked in. Why should Snape, a one night stand, be told anything about his private life? Completely convinced he was right, that time Charlie retreated to the little park which marked the start of residential Magical London, and sat there for an hour brooding whilst he watched the ducks float lazily on the pond. He had left when a mother and toddler had begun to feed them, feeling sick all over again.  
  
He made it back to the little lane once more, willing to throw his cards on the table and see what came back for him, but that time the shop had actually been closed, the blinds drawn down and the sign on the door flipped to ‘closed’. Feeling gutted, he had found shelter in a nearby coffee shop, and drank tea until he couldn’t face another cup.  
  
The next attempted was felled by running into an old friend, and chatting to them for half an hour lounging against a wall, somehow managing to laugh about the old times, school, how great things were in those days and how they should see more of one another.  
  
How he had kept his happy face up throughout the interrogation about his career and love life, Charlie would never know. His stomach had clenched throughout.  
  
And so he found himself standing outside the small shop at ten to five, knowing that the man would emerge soon enough to close up shop for the day once and for all.   
  
He was hungry again and absentmindedly rubbed his stomach.  
  
 _Now or never._  
  
Somehow Charlie knew that if he did not push himself to enter that shop within the next ten minutes, he would never do so. It was part of his personality, when he allotted time to do something, it was done. If it wasn’t, it generally didn’t get done at all. Why he had to regiment his time that way, he didn’t know, but assumed it was a secret desire to keep his easy going persona in check with a strict time schedule.  
  
The bell on the door tinkled and all of a sudden the man stepped out, his dark hair glinting in the late afternoon sun, and Charlie started. His time schedule was being cut short and he panicked, mouth burning dry. He watched the thin hand he last remembered traversing the skin of his belly place a key into the lock of the shop door.  
  
As if someone physically pushed him, Charlie tripped over the cobbles until he was close enough to be heard if he spoke. Snape continued locking up his shop, unaware that anybody was behind him.  
  
“Are you closing?” Charlie tried to keep his voice in check, hoping that only he would be able to detect the nervousness there.  
“Yes,” Snape’s drawl floated back to him. “I’m sorry; you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”  
  
And then he turned, the pale thin profile being lit up in the sunlight. Charlie realised just how drunk he had to have been to ever agree with sex with the man. As he stood there, nervous, sweating in the small of his back, there was no physical attraction at all, only a pull in his gut towards the father of his child.  
  
“We need to talk,” he said with a swallow. “I have something I need to talk to you about.”  
Snape’s eyes were blank, “Weasley, why on earth would you need to talk to me?”  
“Um, this isn’t really the place,” Charlie looked up and down the lane. “Do you think we could go somewhere more private?”  
  
Snape affixed him with a confused stare. “But why, Weasley, when was the last time we saw one another?”  
“Er, one and a half months ago,” Charlie frowned.  
“I think you’ll find it was considerably longer than that,” Snape folded his arms over his chest.   
  
That threw Charlie. “What?”  
“The last time I remember seeing you was at the memorial Ball on the first anniversary, over a year ago.”  
“No, you saw me a month and a half ago,” Charlie corrected, wondering what the hell was going on –was he really so unmemorable?  
“Either way,” Snape shrugged. “I don’t see why you would need to talk to me.”  
“We slept together,” Charlie breathed. “Don’t you remember that?”  
“What?”  
“We slept together,” Charlie tried to make his voice firmer but knew he failed. “About a month and a half ago… we were both drunk, we met in the Leaky. You took me back to yours.”  
  
Snape’s eyes narrowed but he did, at least, pull the key back out of his pocket and unlock the door. “In,” he said tersely, stepping back for Charlie to enter first.  
  
The shop was dark with the blinds down, and a herby scent pervaded the tiny room. He heard a door close behind him and waited for Snape to speak again. Suddenly his back began to ache and Charlie looked around for something to perch on.  
  
“Can I sit down?” he asked finally, finding nothing. “I… there’s something I have to tell you.”  
  
Still regarding him with wary eyes, Snape pulled a stool from the other side of the counter and gestured to it. Charlie gratefully plopped down on it but didn’t drop the bag from his shoulder. He wasn’t foolish –he wanted to be able to make a quick getaway should he have the need.  
  
“Why don’t you remember sleeping with me?” he asked, looking up. “It was pretty… well, you had no complaints on the night.”  
“I haven’t slept with anybody in eight years,” Snape glared. “After such a period of celibacy, Weasley, don’t you think you would remember its ending?”  
“But you did, I know you did and… I…”  
“Spit it out, I have places to be.”  
  
“I’m pregnant.”  
  
Silence swallowed them both up and Charlie waited for the other man to say something, anything.  
  
“Weasley, are you mentally well?” Snape sighed finally. “You appear to be delusional. Men cannot conceive children.”  
“Normal men can’t,” Charlie muttered. “But then, apparently, I’m not normal.”  
“I’ll definitely agree to that,” Snape made a derisive face.  
“It’s yours,” Charlie was provoked into the blunt truth by his anger. Snape was slighting his mental capability and it hurt.  
  
“Now I’ve heard everything.”  
“I’m telling the truth,” Charlie insisted, reaching into his bag and pulling out the file.  
  
It was full of duplicated documents which he had copied for Severus to read through, if he wanted to. It included the statement which proclaimed their child’s paternity.  
  
A jolt went through Charlie when he realised that he had just referred to the foetus in his belly as ‘their child’ and he shivered in the cool air of the shop. With a wobbling hand he passed the file out into the air for Snape, but the man didn’t reach out to accept it.  
  
“It’s there, medical proof,” Charlie sighed, and reached behind him to lay it on the counter. “You are the father of the baby boy in my stomach.”  
“We didn’t sleep together,” Snape repeated, though his voice was a little less certain.  
  
Charlie heaved a sigh. “If you’re missing the memories from your brain, they’re sure as hell in mine,” he reached up and tapped his temple. “Feel free to take a read. I know you excelled in that once.”  
  
He had expected Snape to refuse, but there was only a second before a dark thin wand was whipped out of a sleeve, pointed at his head, and then his mind was positively swimming. Having never experienced a legilimency spell before, Charlie gripped onto the seat of the stool and grit his teeth. Memories flashed past, he knew Snape didn’t have to hunt hard to find what he needed. Charlie looked over the humping bodies, one thin and slender, the other thick and muscled. The point of completion played all over again and he winced, feeling his body react to the sensuous pleasure.  
  
And then Snape pulled out and Charlie’s mind was startlingly clear again, leaving him blinking as though he had looked directly into the sun. When he managed to focus his eyes again he saw Snape’s face considerably paler than it had been five minutes before.  
  
“Do you believe me now?”  
“I…” Snape visibly swallowed and cut off his speech.  
“Why don’t you remember?” Charlie tried to keep his voice conversational. “Am I just that unremarkable?”  
  
There was a snort. “From what I have just seen in your mind, Weasley, there is nothing unremarkable about you at all, or at least, I didn’t think so on that night…”  
  
The man began to walk back and forth, his boots making a muted path on the floorboards.  
  
“So why are you here?” The question was blunt.  
“I’m pregnant,” Charlie repeated.  
“And?” there was very obvious coldness in that voice.  
“It’s yours and I thought…”  
“You thought that I might want to know so that we can embrace this little quirk of nature, wherever it may have come from, and play happy families?”  
  
The scowl on the narrow face was everything that Charlie had been dreading. He took a deep breath and prepared to answer, but Snape cut him off.  
  
“This is ridiculous,” the hiss was loud. “Men do not get pregnant, even in our world.”  
“It’s a family thing,” Charlie ventured, his voice desolate. “Old magic.”  
“I don’t care,” Snape shook his head, dark hair flying. “Get rid of it.”  
“I can’t,” Charlie closed his eyes and hung his head.  
“Why the hell not?” Snape’s voice seethed.  
“The law won’t allow me to; I’m apparently too special to be granted the happiness of a termination.”  
  
Snape stayed quiet and when Charlie raised his head he found himself under the intense gaze of two emotionless pools of black.  
  
“You are not happy?”  
“Would you be?” Charlie eased off the stool. “Would you be happy to find out that you were going to have a baby, when you were gay, and you didn’t want children?”  
  
Snape didn’t answer again but smoothed his fingers over his lips.  
  
“And why are you here?”  
“I thought you deserved to know,” Charlie shrugged. “You’re the father of my child, medically proven, whether you like the fact or not. I’m just trying to be fair.”  
“Fair?” Snape’s sudden shout made Charlie jump and take a step backward. “How on earth is this _fair,_ turning up and dumping this on my shoulders?!”  
“No fairer than having it dumped on mine,” Charlie’s voice rose in the return. “I don’t want this, Snape; I want this fucking thing out of me. I’m going to lose everything. I can’t work, I have to come home to England to be near the hospital… _believe_ me, I want nothing that this brings.”  
  
His temper was running away from him; he could feel the pull in his blood to completely lose control and take everything out on the unsuspecting man in front of him.  
  
“I think it would be best if you left,” Snape decided suddenly, breathing hard.  
“Okay,” Charlie breathed. “Snape, I came here expecting nothing. I don’t want anything from you. But I wanted you to know.”  
“Understood.”  
  
Charlie ambled to the door, blood pounding in his ears.  
  
“You’ve forgotten something.”  
“That’s for you,” Charlie looked over his shoulder. “If you… you want to know why it happened. What’s going to happen to _me_.”  
“I’m not interested,” Snape’s voice was absolute.  
  
But Charlie walked through the door anyway, fighting back the burning in his eyes. It was no less than he’d expected, but suddenly, the loneliness crashed around him, and he was faced with the reality that well and truly, he would be going his unwanted pregnancy alone.  
  
***  
Two days in Romania didn’t help. Everything he stood to lose flaunted so obviously in front of his eyes was too much. His bosses had been horrified for him, supportive –but even they had had to admit that they couldn’t do without his hands, he’d have to be replaced, and they couldn’t allow a child to live with him on the reserve. It didn’t help to see how hard it was for them to deliver that verdict.  
  
“I can’t believe you’re really going,” one of his friends sighed as he spellotaped another box shut.  
  
Charlie didn’t have many possessions with him in the tiny flat which had been his for years. He had been used to sparse living, it didn’t bother him. But it seemed particularly bleak as his band of friends helped him to pack up his life.  
  
“I don’t want to go,” Charlie repeated.  
“We know,” one of the only female workers at the reserve assured him. “We know how much this means to you, Charlie. But life’s got a different path for you now.”  
“Wish it hadn’t bothered,” he straightened up and put his hand on his belly before he realised what he had done.  
  
All of his colleagues looked at him, odd expressions on every face, and he blushed.  
  
“That’s sweet,” Sophie smiled at him.  
“It’s fucking weird,” Andrei supplied.  
“Well, we’re done, now,” Charlie pulled out his wand and shrunk every single one of the boxes so they would fit into his bag.  
  
Loading them up he felt a very definite sense of destiny descending upon him, and he didn’t meet the eyes of his friends. But there was a warm hand on his back.  
  
“Please don’t forget us,” Sophie begged. “It won’t be the same without you getting us all pissed on a Friday night.”  
“Holding our hands when our babies ascend to that great dragon reserve in the sky,” Andrei muttered.  
“I won’t,” Charlie promised. “I’ll come and visit.”  
  
 _Liar. You know damned well you will never set foot in this place again once you leave today. To come back would kill you.  
_  
“And they’re finding you a job with the Ministry in London, right, for when you can go back to work?”  
“They said they’d try, I’m not hopeful. I’ll never survive in an office, even if it is dragon-based.”  
“We survive when we have to,” Andrei looked nervously at his watch. “You’re going to miss your portkey, Char.”  
  
He wasn’t even allowed to apparate back and forth, he had had to wait for portkeys to transport him. The hospital was worried about the bursts of magic harming the baby.  
  
“I’m done,” he straightened, hoisting the bag onto his shoulder and dodged away when Andrei tried to take it from him. “No way, I’m not being one of those… I don’t need any help.”  
“You will,” Sophie gave him a hug. “Don’t go all moody on us, Charlie. Nobody likes it when you’re a moody bear.”  
“Shut up,” he couldn’t help the grin on his face as he pushed her away, giving a playful tug on the pigtails she still wore despite rapidly approaching thirty.  
“Keep in touch,” Andrei whispered, delivering his own hug.  
  
They headed out the door then and Charlie looked around at the suddenly empty flat, the boringly coloured walls, and the basic necessities for a human to live. It had never been anything much, but it was his home. And closing the door to it felt like he was closing the door on his life.  
  
***  
“Mum, really, I’m tired,” Charlie groaned, wanting nothing more than to collapse into bed.  
  
He had only been away for two days, but the travelling had done what the literature had predicted –completely tired him out. But his mother had insisted on meeting him from the portkey hub in London and accompanying him home, using shopping as a bad excuse to pretend she was there for anything other than him.  
  
“Now,” he had heard the tone of her voice a thousand times before –it was her placating tone, “Charlie, please don’t be angry with us.”  
“What?” he growled, shifting his bag on his back –which he had refused to allow his mother to carry- and looked at her.  
“Ron wanted to help,” Molly said delicately, threading her arm through Charlie’s. “I know that you… you haven’t been here, and you don’t really see how much having all that money he was given after the war unsettles him. He hates it, to tell the truth.”  
“Which is weird considering all he ever did was moan about his hand-me-downs,” Charlie mused,  
“Sometimes you moan the most about the things you secretly love,” Molly sighed. “But anyway. Before you see what he’s done, you should know that really he’s barely made a dent in his savings, he still has enough for his wedding, his rent, his own house when he wants to buy one… nothing has changed for him. But as soon as you left he was there with this idea and we… we didn’t _want_ to disagree with him.”  
  
“What’s he done?” Charlie didn’t want to admit it, but his curiosity was peaked.  
“You’ll see in a moment, remember, don’t be angry. He just wants to help and somehow he understands what you’re going through better than any of us seem to… he just wants you to be comfortable.”  
  
Then they rounded the corner of the lane and The Burrow came into the view and Charlie frowned. There was nothing different, nothing that he was looking at, anyway. But then his mother didn’t lead him up the path to the house, but further along the lane.  
  
“Mum…” he said warningly. “What’s going on?”  
“If you don’t pipe down I’ll never give you a moment’s peace,” she sighed dramatically, and then elbowed him in the ribs. “Your little brother wanted to do some good.”  
  
A tiny house Charlie had never seen before appeared in the thick of trees which lay to the east of The Burrow, completely shrouded in the greenery. Made of brick with a secluded drive, he was immediately jealous of whoever lived there.  
  
“Jesus, how long was I away?” he frowned. “Who lives there, are your new neighbours nice?”  
  
Suddenly his mother laughed. “Charlie, how can someone who has five outstanding NEWTs be as dim as you at this moment?”  
“What?” he asked, affronted that she had called him dim.  
“It’s yours, sweetheart,” she said emphatically, gesturing to the house. “Ron. Apparently not just talented at fighting Dark Lords, also, house building.”  
  
Charlie looked uncertainly from her to the house and back again, wondering if she had gone mad.  
  
“Ron doesn’t… he can’t have…”  
“He did.”  
“HE BUILT ME A FUCKING HOUSE?!” his voice echoed through the quiet trees.  
  
His mother turned him a sad smile and overlooked the profanity. “Don’t be angry. He just wanted to help. He said that moving back home, even though you love us, would be one of the hardest things for you to cope with.”  
  
“I don’t… I can’t accept this.”  
“We told him you would be apprehensive.”  
“I can’t afford to pay him back,” Charlie said instantly. “I don’t have the savings… and what I have I’ll need for…”  
  
He stopped before he could finish with ‘the baby’ and swallowed on a burning throat.  
  
“Take it for what it is,” Molly laid a hand on his forearm. “An amazing gift. He’s worked like he’s possessed from the second you left.”  
“Where is he?” Charlie asked hoarsely.  
“Work,” Molly turned and walked up the path. “He finally had to go back and… cleverly, didn’t want to be here for your reaction to his generosity.”  
“Too bloody right,” Charlie growled. “What on earth made him think that I needed him to do this?”  
“You can talk this out with him later,” Molly shook her head. “And I won’t get in the way, but I just want to ask that you don’t hurt his feelings. He’s really upset for you, upset he can’t help you. This was the only way he could think of.”  
  
Staggered, Charlie couldn’t reply any more, but he did at last give a tiny nod of his head, amber flecked eyes sliding over the front of the house.  
  
“Come inside, see what he’s done. It really is quite amazing.”  
  
***  
“You’re mad,” Charlie repeated for the fiftieth time, but still didn’t release Ron from his tight grip.  
“Well, so what,” Ron shrugged. “I had to do something.”  
“You didn’t _have_ to do anything,” Charlie muttered. “I didn’t ask for help.”  
“But I needed to give it,” Ron pulled away and regarded him with sad eyes. “How many times in my life have you helped me?”  
  
Charlie didn’t answer but dropped his arms, awkwardly hooking his thumbs in his jeans pockets.  
  
“Thousands,” Ron rolled his eyes. “And now when you needed me there was something I could do which would really, really help. I don’t regret it.”  
“It’s too much.”  
“And you’re my brother,” Ron shrugged, moving to look out of the back window. “It didn’t take long, everything’s sound, all connected to the Floo.”  
“I’ll pay you back. Every single fucking knut.”  
“Well, that’s fine, if you can. But I won’t take it until I know it can’t be used elsewhere.”  
“Surely you had other things you could have done with it?” Charlie demanded. “Travel? Your own house, rather than building one for me?”  
“I have enough left to do both of those things,” something changed in Ron’s voice. “And this is what I chose. I’m still earning, though I don’t need to. I’m richer than I ever dreamed of when I was a spoilt brat whinging about how everything was too short for me, too crap.”  
  
Charlie sighed and laid a hand on Ron’s shoulder, really marvelling at just when his little brother had grown up.  
  
“But this is going to be hard enough for you,” Ron continued, turning slightly. “Without you trying to pay rent, or being miserable giving up your independence. So I fixed that problem for you. And now when your baby’s born it won’t have to live in the stuff we did.”  
“She’s already knitting,” Charlie said bleakly, looking at the tiled floor of his kitchen. “There are months to go yet and she’s knitting for when it’s six months old.”  
“Let her,” Ron advised. “She needs to help as much as I needed to. Except I can’t knit, so…”  
“Your way ended up stupidly expensive,” Charlie groused.  
  
“Are you going to drop it soon?” Ron asked hopefully. “I knew you’d be unhappy with me, I’m not daft… but just… see sense and see the light.”  
“I’m not ungrateful,” Charlie’s head snapped up, ashamed that his reluctance would have come across that way. “Godric, no… I’m so… just completely shocked.”  
  
Ron’s face broke into a grin. “Still making you speechless, thank Merlin I’m not losing my touch.”  
“C’mere,” Charlie breathed, holding out his hands for a hug and Ron willingly came to him. “And get used to me showing my gratification through the means of brotherly embraces.”  
“I’ll live,” Ron sighed in his ear.  
“Thank you,” Charlie whispered back. “I’m so…”  
“I know,” Ron assured him. “You don’t have to say anything.”  
“I went and told the father,” Charlie blurted, thinking that the one thing he did have to give Ron in return was honesty.  
  
“And?”  
“He didn’t even remember sleeping with me.”  
  
Ron unknowingly called his ex-Potions Master a word he still wouldn’t dare utter in front of their mother, despite being an adult, and Charlie gripped him a little tighter.  
  
“And he didn’t want anything to do with me. I left him the information.”  
“You don’t need him,” Ron dismissed immediately.  
  
Charlie wanted to agree, but he couldn’t make his mouth work. Ever since leaving the tiny apothecary and potions shop, all he had wanted was for an assurance that he wouldn’t go through his predicament emotionally alone. Ron was as close as he was going to get to that without a lover.  
  
It wasn’t enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Accidental and unwanted MPreg, near miscarriage, suicidal thoughts, Angst, Language.

_Ow._  
  
Charlie was bored. Bored and slowly going insane. Not working, for someone so physically motivated, was hell. He was bored of the walls of his amazing house that his brother had built for him, equally bored of the garden and tending to it. The wireless never played anything new and the novelty of the Muggle television Hermione had doctored and donated had worn off when he discovered that adverts were incredibly annoying. He didn’t have the money to add to the small collection of films she had also leant him.  
  
Which was why he had stolen Bill’s guitar in the first place.  
  
 _It’s not Bill’s, if you remember rightly, he chaffed it from you when you were thirteen. And never gave it back._  
  
Blowing cool air on his throbbing fingertips, Charlie set the instrument aside and looked around at his surroundings. George had taken to letting him haunt Wheezes when he needed extra hands, but already fully-staffed Charlie was proud of the fact that his brother was too much of a gentleman to lay off a worker simply so that family could take the job.  
  
Plus, in any case, he spent most of his time moping around with a headache, backache, stomach ache –anything that could ache, ached. That particular day it was his neck and shoulders; the guitar only exacerbated matters but he didn’t think he could take another twenty-four hours of lounging around in bed. His mother had forced him back to the Healers when she had seen how his health was deteriorating, but they had only told her that it was common in male pregnancy. His body just wasn’t made to carry what currently resided in it.  
  
 _And then there are all the lovely comments about how you’re nobody’s smiling Charlie anymore…_  
  
He narrowed his eyes, brooding at the wall at the thought. It was very clear that the Healers, at least, had expected him to have come to terms with his situation. They grew shorter in tone with each visit, and that was the reason he was so reluctant to go. He had found out he was one and a half months pregnant in mid-August. Outside the windows of the brick house November was battering rain down with extreme force and the pond had already flooded.  
  
 _Halfway through._  
  
Charlie had to concede that at four and a half months pregnant, maybe he should have accepted the child growing in his belly, especially as he had started to show. Brown eyes dropped down to look at his stomach, as they did countless times in a day, and tried to figure out of his secret was any closer to being out. Outside of his immediate family and attached spouses, he had told nobody other than those necessary at the reserve about his pregnancy. The hospital had advised it that way.  
  
 _And Snape, you told Snape._  
  
Charlie gave a bitter scoff when he thought of him, and the day that he had spent trying to work up the courage to enter the man’s shop and inform him that he was about to become a father. The look of horror on the narrow face could be drummed up in a second, the harsh uncaring words screamed across his brain without even truly summoning them.  
  
He wasn’t foolish –even if Snape had wanted to be involved, there was the personal slight to deal with that the man didn’t remember sleeping with him, which still cut Charlie to the core whenever he thought about it, and the fact that the man wasn’t exactly known for kindness.  
  
 _That’s unfair,_ Charlie scolded himself, _You don’t know what he’s like… you know why he hated teaching at Hogwarts now, know why he hated Harry… and he had reasons, whether you believe they’re good enough or not.  
_  
He picked frustratedly at the cuticle of his thumbnail and closed his eyes. He had taken to walking through the moods and knew the land around his parents’ house better than he ever had as a child, but with the weather so miserable he couldn’t face it, even with water repelling charms.  
  
There was an awful lot Charlie found he couldn’t face, and that included high concentrations of people, the smell of cut grass and, heartbreakingly, cheese. He shuddered thinking of how he had learned that lesson. Cheese was one of his favourite things in the world and it just added to his list of resentment that he couldn’t eat it without throwing up.  
  
 _And you really, really don’t need to throw up any more than you already are._  
  
Even thinking about it made his stomach lurch and he fought to keep hold of his guts, one hand smoothing over his belly as it had become customary for him to do. He looked down at his hand with a sigh. Everyone seemed to melt when he did it, but Charlie just grew more frustrated. He didn’t know why he took comfort from touching his stomach, and the now-present baby bump which lived there, because he certainly didn’t take any mental comfort from what was inside of it.  
  
His mother was still knitting, her needles clicking away at every possible opportunity and whilst he was grateful that he probably wouldn’t have to buy baby clothes until his child turned two, the sight of the tiny jumpers, hats and boots made him feel ill.   
  
It made him feel ill because the first time he had picked up a pair of the boots his first thought, his usual thought, before he remembered what had happened to him, was happy, thinking how small they were, how cute. Not that he would ever have admitted that to any of his brothers, but he had thought it nonetheless. And then when his brain made the connection, a split second later, he had dropped them and been forced to do a mercy dash through his parents’ house to the toilet.   
  
He thanked his lucky stars his mother had been intuitive enough not to show them to him again.  
  
The throbs in his fingers had subsided a little, and he yawned. He was good at playing the guitar, apparently, but he couldn’t get excited about it. Especially not when the strings were torturing his fingers –he didn’t need anything else to hurt on his body.  
  
 _Your complete lack of interest for everything is really pissing everybody off._  
  
Surprisingly it had been Bill that cracked first. Charlie slumped back into the sofa remembering the way that his only older brother had cornered him one Sunday at the obligatory family lunch and told him to pull his head out of his arse. Charlie had been affronted, angry, hurt –until he had gotten home and realised that he had deserved every single rebuke which had slipped from Bill’s usually kind mouth.  
  
 _Kind to me, at any rate._ That occurrence had been one of four times in his entire life that he could remember arguing with Bill, and it hurt that it had been his own bad mood which had caused the ill feeling between them. Bill hadn’t even really said anything hurtful, just truthful.  
  
But then Charlie was old enough to know that much of the time they were one and the same.  
  
After that nobody had felt bad about huffing and telling him to cheer up or they’d make him. George had taken to leaving the room completely, which Charlie felt bad for, but he couldn’t deny he was having trouble fighting off the depression. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to look forward to the time down the line where what was in his stomach, making him ill, would be out of it, making him poor, and tired, and unable to find a man ever again.  
  
 _Melodramatic much?_  
  
His mind teased him with a sigh and Charlie ignored it. He could only draw his conclusions from his own opinion, which was dangerous, but what alternative did he have? And Charlie knew, if he had been dating somebody who then admitted to having birthed a child, not wanting one himself, he wouldn’t have been able to continue as harsh as that was. And did he want to limit himself to men who were gay but longed for their own babies?  
  
 _Fuck no. Bollocks._  
  
A rush of regret swept him up and he looked bitterly at the fire, wishing that either he had never slept with Snape or Snape had wanted him, wanted his baby, and he just wouldn’t be alone.  
  
 _And that’s your whole problem_.  
  
On voicing that to Ron, the suggestion had been to carry on dating like normal. But Charlie had been forced to point out that the only reason he had been driven to sleep with Snape in the first place was because of a dry spell sending him mad. There was nobody who seemed to want him whom he liked in return, and before he found out he was pregnant, settling for second best wasn’t an option.  
  
 _But now…_  
  
His depressing rumination was cut off by a thudding on his front door, and Ron’s voice. “Hurry up and let me in, it’s fucking mental out here.”  
  
Charlie heaved himself up off the sofa with a wry grin. Ron had taken to visiting him every day on his lunch hour after he twigged that the middle of the day was the worst time for the depression to kick in.  
  
 _Clever little bastard._  
  
“I brought lunch,” Ron called enticingly. “Please let me in, it’s-”  
  
Charlie swung the door open mid-sentence and couldn’t help his laugh, seeing Ron completely drenched on his porch, fiery hair dyed to dark auburn as it clung to his face in streaks.  
  
“Wet, isn’t it?” Charlie leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms.  
“Are you going to let me in?” Ron growled, narrowing his eyes. “Because, you know, I can just go and feed this all to mum.”  
“What’s the password?” Charlie watched Ron’s annoyance rise in his eyes, and knew he shouldn’t be making fun for himself in getting a rise out of the one of the main people who was helping him, but he needed some fun.  
“Comeguzzler,” Ron made a face.  
“No, sorry, it changed,” Charlie hissed with an apologetic grimace.  
“Serious to Godric I’m going to punch you in a minute,” Ron shook his head and sent water flying everywhere.  
“You’d hit a pregnant man?” Charlie marshalled his face to horror.  
“Better than hitting a pregnant woman,” Ron smirked.  
“Sexist,” Charlie huffed, and finally kicked the door wide open for him, grinning as Ron called him all manner of names beneath his breath as he crossed the threshold.  
  
“How’s the guitar going?” Ron dried himself with his wand.  
“Painfully,” Charlie held up his hand with sore finger tips as proof. “But, getting pretty good at it.”  
“Well, there’s a surprise,” Ron voice dripped sarcasm as he lifted the bag again and headed into the open kitchen. “You’re good with your hands.”  
 _  
They weren’t very good at keeping my legs together though, were they? Actually… arse, not legs. Different end of the… fuck._  
  
Pulling himself out of the disturbing mental conversation, Charlie ambled up to see what Ron had brought him for lunch.  
  
“Just so we’re clear,” Ron pointed to the long sandwich. “Are you still off cheese, ham, ketchup, onions and tuna?”  
“Yup,” Charlie groaned mournfully.  
“Brilliant, then I got it right,” Ron picked up his own sandwich and without another word hopped his backside lithely onto the kitchen worktop to eat.  
“How old are you?” Charlie said disapprovingly, picking up his own and walking to the table.  
“Shut up, mum,” Ron rolled his eyes through a mouthful of food. “I built this house; I can sit where I want.”  
“That’s getting really old.”  
“You know you love me,” Ron winked at him, merrily swinging his legs into the space beneath the counter. “D’you know why I put this space here?” he asked after swallowing.  
“I don’t know, I kind of wondered if you thought that’s where I’d keep the baby?” Charlie teased.  
  
Ron flipped him the finger and chewed thoughtfully for a while. “No, I kind of thought it was a great place for a dog bed… We all know what you’re like with animals.”  
“Just what you need when you’re poor, a dog to feed,” Charlie shot the grumpy-bear answer back at Ron without thinking and he saw his brother freeze.  
“Okay, just a suggestion.”  
“Sorry,” Charlie shook his head. “It’s a good idea.”  
“Forget it,” Ron shook his head more insistently. “Anyway… I need to get back to work, because I’ve got a trial to sit in this afternoon.”  
“Don’t go because I snapped at you,” Charlie moaned, “I’m sorry.”  
“I know you are, but, really, is it going to stop you doing it again?”  
  
Charlie didn’t answer but looked at his food.  
  
“If you’d just tell them the truth when they ask you how you’re coping, this would all go away, y’know?” Ron ate the rest of his sandwich and then hopped off the counter, brushing his hands together. “You can take the potions pregnant, it won’t fuck the baby around, and you’ll be better for it.”  
“I know that,” Charlie shook his head.  
“So why are you still miserable?” Ron groaned. “Wait; don’t answer that, stupid question. Why won’t you help yourself?”  
“Because I don’t see why I should have to,” Charlie looked up at him. “I don’t want this.”  
“We know,” Ron chewed on his lip.  
“And I don’t want a fucking baby.”  
“We know.”  
“And I hate how I have to rely on everyone else, for everything,” Charlie gestured with the sandwich.  
“We know.”  
“And I really, really fucking hate how it’s my brother’s birthday in two weeks and I can’t get pissed with him.”  
  
“Finished?” Ron raised his eyebrows and continued when Charlie grumpily nodded. “You don’t want this, fine. But it’s happening. You don’t want a baby-”  
“ _Fucking_ baby,” Charlie corrected with an embarrassed grin.  
“Such profanity, there are infants present,” Ron tsked with a spot-on impression of their mother. “You don’t want the baby. It’s not going anywhere, Charlie, get used to it. Mean as that is…”  
“It is,” Charlie confirmed, guilt swallowing him further by the second.  
“You hate relying on us –do you want me to stop bringing you food at lunchtime? Because I can. I can just fuck off if that’s what you want?”  
  
Silence hovered in the air and Charlie sighed. “No, Ron, that’s not what I want.”  
“Fine, then shut up whinging about it. If you want me, you get what I bring, end of story.”  
“I hate it when you’re this tenacious,” Charlie glowered at him.  
“When I’m what?” Ron looked at him amusedly.  
“Shut up, I _might_ have taken to reading the dictionary and making filthy word chains to amuse myself –what can I say? It’s lonely sitting on your arse all day.”  
  
Ron laughed then and buried his face in his hands. “Char, please… go and see mum. Don’t read the dictionary, I already have one walking book in my life, I don’t need you joining in the party.”  
“How’s things with you and Hermione?” Charlie asked, eager to get away from the conversation of his own failing life. “Everything alright?”  
  
  
Ron looked at his watch and dropped into the seat opposite Charlie. “S’all right, nothing new to report.”  
“When are you going to ask her to marry you?” Charlie fixed Ron with an amused stare.  
“Not you as well,” Ron slumped forwards and banged his forehead on the table. “Her, mum, her mum, Ginny, Fleur, Bill once…”  
“Bill try to give you pointers on proposing?” Charlie made a sympathetic face.  
“Yes, it comes second only to the sex talk for embarrassment,” Ron mumbled, not raising his face. “It’s just because Harry and Ginny are already married, everyone thinks I’m failing to meet the standard.”  
  
“Why _haven’t_ you done it yet?” Charlie asked gently, polishing off his sandwich and feeling ridiculous that yet again, he had gone too long without food and felt so much better for eating.  
“I… it’s just a ring,” Ron’s voice wavered slightly, and Charlie immediately knew he was lying. “We live together now, and we love each other. What’s the point of the extra ring to prove it? I make a commitment to her every day…”  
“Yeah, but, putting your pants actually in the washing bin isn’t the same as a wedding,” Charlie heaved himself out of the chair, heading for the kettle.  
“I know,” there was something in Ron’s voice that he didn’t like.  
“You’d tell me if there was something wrong?” Charlie pried.  
“There’s nothing wrong,” Ron assured him, and got to his own feet. He glanced at his watch again. “Fuck I’ve really got to go now; I wasn’t lying just to get away from your shite mood.”  
  
“Alright,” Charlie watched him closely, seeing the set of his mouth.  
  
 _Fuck it; you’re an idiot, Charlie. There was obviously a reason he’s thrown himself into looking after you like he has and now you know why –you’re his distraction. Fucking stupid._  
  
“Hug,” Charlie demanded as Ron turned to leave. “Thank you for lunch. Sorry for being a sad grumpy old git.”  
  
Ron laughed as they met in an embrace, and gave him a gentle squeeze. “Feels so odd to hug you and feel a bump,” he mused, pulling back. “But lucky you ate all those pies, right, just looks like your normal gut, really.”  
  
Sweeping his hand across it again, Charlie snorted. “Well, now I know where to come when I want a slightly insulting silver lining.”  
  
***  
“So have you thought of names yet?” Ginny asked over the Sunday dinner table, and everyone suddenly fell quiet, either looking at their plates or interestedly at pieces of wall.  
“No, not really,” Charlie pushed his food around with his fork. “I’ll just think of something when the time comes.”  
“What, out of thin air?” Percy asked.  
“Why not?” Charlie shrugged.  
“Worked for me,” Arthur cut in. “And I did it seven times.”  
“Six, we knew Ginny from the off,” Molly corrected.  
“You’re not going to give it some bloody dragon related name, are you?” George made a face.   
“I don’t know,” Charlie repeated.  
  
“Wizard or Muggle?” Ginny pressed.  
“I don’t know,” Charlie repeated.  
“Wizard first, Muggle middle,” Hermione offered.  
  
“How about we just drop it and let the man name his baby what he wants and when it comes?” Ron’s voice floated over the rest of the table, “And let him eat.”  
“Thank you,” Charlie sent him a smug grin and a wink. “And that means he’s the only person at this table that I would even thinking about naming my baby after, don’t think I don’t know what you’re all chasing for.”  
  
He let them erupt into playful complaint around him and ate some more of his food. Charlie was lying –of course he had thought about what to name his child, but he wasn’t going to throw himself to hungry wolves. Plus, he tried not to think about it that often.  
  
Charlie relaxed as the chatter turned away from him and his child and wondered if he might be able to talk Ron into a game of chess. He was surprised he wanted to, but he felt oddly social and he wasn’t going to knock it. He was relying on Ron not to, either.  
  
 _Fuck! What was that?_  
  
Something in his gut had just very obviously moved. Surreptitiously he moved his hand beneath the table and spread his fingers over his belly, wondering if the sensation would come again. It did -a tiny nudge against his palm which made his abdomen flutter.  
  
 _Right, so… now what? Am I meant to fall about all gaga and see the light?_  
  
Charlie had to stop himself from snorting aloud at his mind’s thought, and instead took a drink of water. Nothing came from his stomach again though he waited for it. He wasn’t happy; he wasn’t even particularly moved at all by it either way. The only thing he could even think of to say was that he was glad that, if he had to have it at all, it seemed healthy.  
  
 _We had this conversation about ‘it’ a long time ago…_  
  
As had everybody else, who didn’t seem content to hear him refer to his baby as ‘it’.  
 _  
They all shut up when you yelled at them though…_  
  
Which wasn’t fair at all, Charlie knew, but on those days he had just been so sick of everything baby that it didn’t matter to him who he upset. It was a testimony to just how many of those days he had begun to have which made him determined to stay in The Burrow that evening and make conversation with his brothers.  
  
***  
“You look a bit pale, are you sure you’re alright?” Bill asked, again.  
  
 _I’m **fine** , knob off before I ram your fucking pint down your-_  
  
“Charlie, are you alright, you’re looking a bit pale?” Ron’s voice was concerned.  
“The next person to ask me if I’m fine will get that ashtray shoved up their backside,” Charlie growled, stabbing his finger at it.  
“Oyoy,” George smirked. “None of that, what you do in your own time is your own business, don’t force it on the rest of us you kinky sod.”  
  
That shattered through Charlie’s anger and he snorted through his mouthful of woefully non-alcoholic cocktail. “Oh, brother, I have so many more things to scare you with than that.”  
“I’m made of steel,” George challenged back.  
“I’m not,” Bill threw in, “Can we not go into an ‘I’m going to gross you out more’ thing?”  
  
  
They were all out in force in one of the Wizarding nightclubs off Diagon Alley for Bill’s birthday, despite the fact that everyone had point out to him that at thirty-one and being a father, he should be retiring his leather trousers.  
  
 _Like fuck, he’ll still be dangling that arse about in them when he’s eighty, let alone thirty-one._  
  
Charlie didn’t like to think of his brother’s age, it reminded him that in a fortnight he would be twenty-nine, and twenty-eight was plenty enough for him. He took another mouthful of drink –a mixture which craved alcohol to make it better, and looked around. Ginny was sitting on Harry’s lap, his hands locked firmly about her waist with his chin resting on her shoulder. George was rolling up a crisp packet, a look on his face which they all knew as his expression which filled the space where he normally would have been talking to Fred. Each of them had tried filling the hole and failed. It was clearly never meant to be filled.  
  
Percy, too, was sitting quietly, looking awkward. Charlie had tried to approach him, tried to make him feel a better about returning to the family, but his first younger brother was proof that some damage was irreparable. But they were at least all trying. Charlie caught his eye as he looked up and gave him a warm smile. Percy returned it. His lips opened to talk, but then his gaze dipped to the ashtray, he smirked, and looked away.  
  
 _Finally, a family member with a bit of sense!_  
  
His eyes skipped over Bill, who was being fed crisps by his wife lovingly – _pass me a bucket, seriously… weak stomach here… these people…_ And then he found Ron sitting next to Hermione, holding her hand loosely in the dip between their chairs.  
  
Charlie narrowed his eyes and looked closely at the both of them, their body language. Figuring out what was wrong with Ron had become his favourite new obsession –god knew he needed one to keep him occupied. The more he looked, the more he talked to Ron on his lunchtime visits, he was utterly convinced that something was up between them.  
  
 _Maybe it’s just relationship issues? Maybe things aren’t working out so well in the bedroom department?_  
  
He took a mouthful of drink and thought about it. The turn of Ron’s legs away from the woman made him think, and Hermione’s mouth was set.  
 _  
You are so looking too far into this._  
  
“Right!” Bill called. “I’ve waited long enough. None of us are dancing.”  
“That’s because we’re old,” George threw in unhelpfully. “Well. You are. But we don’t want to show you up with your dodgy dad moves.”  
“I do not have dodgy dad moves!” Bill growled at him, looking more menacing than he had ever achieved without his werewolf attack battle scars.  
“No, it’s true,” Ginny slapped George on the arm. “He had dodgy moves before he became a dad.”  
“Terrible mover,” Percy contributed to the conversation.  
“I’ve seen people with trapped wind move more gracefully,” Charlie toasted his brother. “C’mon, Bill, you’ve got to admit that the only reason anybody lets you on the dance floor is your legs in those trousers. And _I’m_ the mover of the family.”  
“Then you won’t have any trouble with dancing with me?” Bill got to his feet and held out his arm.  
“I’m pregnant,” Charlie scowled and looked away.  
“You’re pregnant, not dead,” Bill raised his eyebrows. “Or are you just finally feeling better about the whole thing and you’re going to accept it all?”  
  
“Who wants to dance?!” Charlie knocked back the rest of his drink and got to his feet, pulling anxiously at the front of his t-shirt. His belly seemed to have grown a lot over the past week, though everyone assured him that it wasn’t visible through his shirt.  
  
It had been a long time since he’d been out in a club like the one they were in, with the lights flashing and the music blaring.   
  
“I’m so glad you came tonight,” Bill grinned at him, shaking his long hair back.  
  
Charlie smiled at his brother and saw the handsome figure he still cut in the ambience of the club. He had always been insanely jealous of Bill’s looks, of his slender figure and height, of his personality, his brains. Charlie had been jealous of a lot and it hadn’t stopped when the man had gotten married, but he begrudged him none of it.  
  
 _In fact I would really love to learn how he can be happy about this childhood thing._  
  
“When you said you might not come,” Bill shouted over the music. “I was going to cancel it and come and spend the night in your house. Bugging you.”  
“You didn’t have to do that,” Charlie rolled his eyes. “It’s just a bit… busy.”  
“You used to love this sort of thing,” Bill grimaced at him. “It was _you_ dragging _me_ to these dives, making me dance until I couldn’t, trying to pick us up and girl and a bloke at the same time. And you always fucking managed it.”  
“Well,” Charlie felt a failure to admit it. “I lost the spark, Bill. And it was that which landed me in this mess,” he waved a hand at his belly.  
“Are you ever going to tell me who the father is?” Bill asked, as quietly as he could, inching closer.  
  
Charlie shook his head, his curls flying. His hair had done what it always did in the heat –multiplied, and it annoyed him.   
  
“Why is it such a big secret?” Bill asked. “I’m not going to go and castrate the bastard. This is out of the blue, it’s not like you were knocked up on purpose, neither of you had any idea.”  
“I’m not proud of it,” Charlie shrugged. “You have your secrets, Bill, and I’ll have mine. He wants nothing to do with me, and that’s fine.”  
“Us,” Bill corrected, his eyes slipping down to Charlie’s gut. “You should get used to saying us.”  
“I’m going to go away now,” Charlie turned but Bill caught his arm.  
“You can’t do this to yourself forever,” he shook his head.  
  
Surprisingly they were both still dancing, out of the corner of his eye Charlie could see that Harry, Ginny, George and Fleur had all followed them onto the heaving floor.  
  
“And what exactly am I doing?” Charlie grit his teeth.  
“Letting this rule your life,” Bill pulled him closer, almost into a hug.  
“Your wife is going to get the wrong idea in a minute,” Charlie muttered.  
“My wife can’t understand why we’re all too afraid to tell you this,” Bill hissed. “She thinks we’re soft.”  
“And what does she want to say?”  
“That you need to grow up and accept what’s happening to you, stop moping over it. So you had plans –plans to stay in that dive of a flat and tend dragons for the rest of your life. Well, kids don’t stay kids forever, Charlie –and there are so many opportunities you have in the meantime.”  
  
Charlie didn’t reply, inwardly he was fuming. What was worse was that he knew that his brother was right; he just couldn’t accept what was happening to him.  
  
“Please just tell me you’ll think about it?” Bill asked. “You’re doing so well, everyone can see how hard it is for you, how ill you are when you think nobody’s watching you. But you’re not…”  
  
The music changed to a much louder rock song and Charlie winced. “What?”  
“You’re not you, Char…” Bill’s eyes were full of pleading.  
“I’m sorry,” Charlie shrugged, and turned away before he could be grabbed again.  
  
 _No, I know I’m not me. I don’t want to be me. I’m not me with this fucking thing inside of me._  
  
Charlie drew level with the bar then and he looked calculatively at it, his eyes narrowing. Ron’s hair was gleaming as he stood, ordering drinks, and Charlie pushed through the thick of people to reach him.  
  
“Hey,” he put his hand on his back, and Ron jumped.   
“Oh, Christ, it’s you,” Ron laughed. “There’s a guy over there whose been getting a little bit overfriendly with my arse if you know what I’m saying?”  
“Ooh, where?” Charlie craned his head, old instincts kicking in –any man that liked touching arses and didn’t mind red hair was good in his book.  
“Blonde guy,” Ron muttered, watching the barman pour a double measure of firewhiskey. “Think he’s foreign. Very tight jumper and black jeans.”  
“Hello,” Charlie grinned and turned back to Ron. “Get me a drink.”  
“Sure, can I have a. heh, boozeless-” Ron began his instruction to the barman.  
“No,” Charlie cut through him. “I want a drink.”  
  
Blood was pumping through his veins and he didn’t quite know what he was doing. He wasn’t even craving alcohol, but the danger was calling to him. Danger always called to him, whether it was fighting dragons or jumping off a high bridge into a river.  
  
“No,” Ron frowned. “Charlie, have you forgotten something?”  
“How could I?” Charlie shrugged.   
  
Ron gave him a worried look and placed the original order with an apology to the barman for making him wait, and then his sigh was audible even over the music. “Don’t give up now, Char,” he muttered.  
“I’m not, one drink won’t kill me. Or it.”  
“I’m not buying you alcohol and you won’t find a single one of us that will, either,” Ron hissed at him, shoving the boring mix of fruit juice at him. “And if I see you here myself…”  
  
There was something in the way Ron’s eyes glittered which had Charlie believing his little brother meant every single word, and would follow through on his promise.  
  
“Fine,” Charlie muttered begrudgingly, feeling the urge for a thrill subside in his veins. “But I’m going to talk to the blonde.”  
“And don’t let him buy you any fucking drinks either,” Ron warned him. “Seriously, Charlie. This is about your health, too. I read the fucking books.”  
“You what?” Charlie frowned.   
“I read the books you have on your shelf about the… well. That night when I was round and you needed a bath. I sat on your sofa and I read it. I know what happens if it goes wrong and I am _not_ losing you. Lost enough brothers.”  
  
Charlie could hear the alcohol working in Ron’s own system at that point and he knew he wouldn’t win.  
  
“Alright,” he shifted his weight between his feet. “Is everything alright between you and Hermione, you look a bit distant tonight?”  
  
Ron stiffened automatically. “We’re fine,” he forced a smile onto his face –and Charlie sympathised. He had spent enough of the past four and half months forcing smiles onto his tired face to do him for an entire lifetime.  
“You’re not,” Charlie whispered, leaning forward. “Don’t lie to me, Ron. I never lie to you.”  
“Charlie I…”  
  
Ron’s cheeks blushed and he looked away.  
“Tell me,” Charlie needled.  
“You can’t do everything for me,” Ron burst out suddenly. “I need to… this is my problem, alright?”  
  
And then he was gone, scooping up the rest of the drinks from the bar and disappearing into the thick crowd. Charlie watched his back disappear, a frown locked onto his face, his mind and heart completely concerned where as before they had just been worried.  
  
“Hello,” a silky voice said, before he could make after Ron to check that he was alright. “Do you know that man?”  
“He’s my brother,” Charlie looked up into the face of the handsome blonde. “And very straight.”  
  
The blonde’s eyes looked curious, then, and he opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it. He took a sip of his drink to cover his hesitation and then said, “So… brothers, do you all have this beautiful red hair?”  
  
One slender hand reached up and gently lifted a curl on the side of Charlie’s face. He shivered, a shiver he hadn’t felt in a long time and turned the charm onto his lips in a dashing smile. “Yes, every single one of us.”  
“You are very different to him,” the man flirted. “Far more muscular…”  
“Do you like that?” Charlie smirked.  
“Very much.”  
“And are you free for the night?”  
  
Where his old persona was coming from, Charlie didn’t know. It was like someone had flipped a switch and all of a sudden there he was, he was back again. In the long hours spent lamenting his life on his sofa it felt like those times were completely gone. A hand curled around his waist and pulled him a little closer.  
  
“Do you like to dance…?”  
“Charlie,” he filled in for him, and took a sip of his drink.  
“Christian,” the man smiled back. “And are you single?”  
“Oh yes,” Charlie sighed.  
“And what are you drinking?”  
“Nothing,” Charlie grimaced. “I can’t, I’m on the broomstick for health issues.”  
“That’s a shame,” the glass of wine was emptied. “Then I won’t be as cruel as to flaunt my drink in front of you. Would you like to dance?”  
  
 _No, my back is killing me and if you press up against me you’re going to feel my bump._  
  
“Sure, why not?”  
  
***  
The hours seemed to pass quickly in the murky lights of the club, and as the time got later the crowd on the floor began to thin as people headed home, or if they were brave enough, onward. Charlie felt like he had been dancing for a lifetime, but the blonde he had found by the bar was both charming and a complete gentleman. He seemed to read his wants, the first time that Charlie had moved away from his suggested embrace the man had not suggested it again.  
  
“Charlie?” he asked, in a delightful Australian accent.  
“Mmm?” Charlie inclined his head.  
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you alright?” Christian’s brow was marred with frown lines. “You’re awfully pale and you’re… sweating slightly…”  
“It’s just the dancing,” Charlie assured him.  
“I think you should have some water.”  
“I’m fine, I promise you,” Charlie smiled and pulled him into another dance.  
  
  
  
It wasn’t until half an hour later that Charlie felt a lurch in his stomach, which made him take pause. Since the Sunday before at lunch, he had had more tiny fluttering kicks, mainly when he lay on his back in bed and stroked his belly, or just after he’d eaten. But the grinding sensation was something new, and it didn’t feel right.  
  
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he called to Christian. “Just need to, uh, visit the little wizard’s room.”  
  
The blonde gave him an encouraging smile and Charlie turned, worried to find the club blurring in his vision. The bathroom was all the way on the other side of the club and what he wanted, as a pain sliced up his spine, was to sit down. Trying to skirt around the throng of people he suddenly felt very hot, and the flutter in his belly turned into a pain every bit as strong as the one which had ripped up his back. Gasping he closed his eyes, to try and stop the room from spinning.  
  
At which point the floor came up to meet him, he couldn’t remember, but the next thing he knew he was on it, face down in the disgusting club mess which littered the varnished floorboards.   
  
***  
“Just get him to the hospital.”  
  
That was Ron’s voice, and Charlie hated how fretful it sounded.  
  
“I’ll follow you in a second, there’s something I have to do.”  
“Alright,” Bill spoke then, also worried.  
  
Charlie felt much calmer, there was something cool on his forehead and it was heavenly.  
  
“Where are you going, Ron?” Charlie didn’t recognise the voice and then realised that was because he was fading out on the conversation.  
  
He struggled through the blackness.  
  
“Doing something that needs to be done.”  
  
***  
“That’s it,” someone’s voice was jubilant. “Yes, he’s coming round now. Brilliant.”  
“What does that mean?”   
“Touch wood he should be out of the woods now,” the authoritative sounding man spoke again. “But I’m not counting my hyppogriffs just yet.”  
“And the baby?”  
  
Charlie didn’t know where the scream that tore out of his throat came from when a hand pressed down on his belly; the pain was like fire being branded into his skin.  
  
“Gods he sounds like an animal,” Bill’s voice was desperate.  
“He will be in pain,” the man spoke again. “But we cannot plug him with relaxant potions –which nearly all of our pain medication contains, we need him to wake up, not sleep.”  
  
The hand touched again and once more Charlie screamed, and that time he was aware of his spine arching up off the bed.  
  
“Stop doing that,” Bill growled. “You’re hurting him.”  
  
 _Trust you; don’t piss off the hospital staff, Bill!_  
  
Cracking open his eyes, the room blinded him.  
  
“Charlieeee,” Bill’s voice was a groan and Charlie watched, dazed, as his hand was lifted up and squeezed.  
“What happened?” his eyes flickered.  
“Do you remember passing out?” Bill pushed his curls back off his forehead. “In the club?”  
“Not really, I remember… blonde?”  
“Yeah, he was really cut up, I think you were in there,” Bill’s smile was weak, Charlie could see just how shaken he was.  
  
“Mr. Weasley, we’re doing everything we can to keep you and your baby safe,” the Healer spoke, and Charlie searched the room with his eyes until he found him. “However, you are very unwell.”  
“What happened?”  
“Complications, very close to a miscarriage, but the baby’s distress manifested in you before it got that far. You were incredibly lucky, Charlie, and even more so that your brothers acted so quickly.”  
“Where is everybody?” Charlie asked Bill.  
  
“Aren’t you relieved?” Bill’s eyes clouded with confusion. “Charlie, you nearly lost the baby, and we could have lost you!”  
  
Charlie didn’t have the energy to answer him, and he knew that was probably a good thing –it was probable that his brother would loathe his answer.  
  
“Everyone else went home to wait with mum and dad, except Ron, he’s… I have no idea where Ron is, he left the club telling us that he would follow, there was something that he had to do, but none of us have seen him since –that was three hours ago.”  
“He’s upset,” Charlie murmured. “Something’s wrong with him, Bill, dunno what.”  
“Well right now, you’re unwell,” there was another stroke to his forehead. “Just rest, I’ll worry about Ron.”  
  
“You’ll be in here for at least a week,” the Healer informed him. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. The baby is stable for now, though, so you should be grateful.”  
  
 _Why?_  
  
“Can I have something to drink?” Charlie croaked, his throat burning.  
“Water only,” the Healer dictated, and then swept out of the hospital room.  
  
“You scared the shit out of me,” Bill hissed angrily, pouring a cup of water from the jug by the bed.  
“I didn’t… do anything…” Charlie struggled to lift his head, the room swam again.  
“I know,” Bill sighed and helped him drink. “But god… you were… shaking, and choking up blood…”  
“W-what?”  
“Yeah, it was fucking horrible. You made Perce cry, Char.”  
“Fuck.”  
  
Bill said nothing more but took the cup away and set it down, and then he dropped into the chair by the side of the bed and took up Charlie’s hand again. “You’re cold,” he muttered.  
“Nah,” Charlie tried to shake his head and only managed a slight nudge.  
“They said… they said if you’d been a woman… and muggle… they wouldn’t have been able to save the baby, and possibly not you, either…”  
  
Charlie didn’t know what to say to him. The words were there in the ether but he couldn’t care about them.  
  
“Charlie?”  
“Wha’?”  
“I know what you’re thinking,” Bill whispered. “And I won’t let you think that…”  
  
There was a knock on the door just then, and Bill straightened.  
  
“No,” he muttered again, giving Charlie a firm glare, and got to his feet. “Come in.”  
  
“Hey,” Ron stuck his head round the door. “What’s going on? Is he alright? The baby?”  
“He’s fine,” Bill nodded. “Where the fuck have you been, Ron? I’ve been worried sick –I was worried enough!”  
“I know,” Ron looked nervously at Charlie in the bed. “Look, Char… I know that you… fuck.”  
“W-what?”  
“I know who the father of your baby is,” Ron took a deep breath as he spoke.  
“ _What?_ ”  
  
Charlie heard his own voice, a harsh echo of his usual friendly tone. Something stirred in his chest.  
  
“I know who it is… I… I’ve known since I built the house, when I transferred all of your things from mum and dad’s. The hospital information…”  
  
Ron’s face was an ugly blush and Charlie was all of a sudden furious.  
  
“You had no right to read through my personal paperwork!”   
  
His shout was from nowhere, and Ron flinched.   
  
“It fell out of your stuff, and I just… I’m sorry, alright?”  
“Well what has this got to do with anything?” Bill moved between them, a hand outstretched to each of them, which was futile as Charlie didn’t feel like he could breathe without exertion, let alone move. But it was perhaps Bill’s anticipation of a fight which caused him to get up.  
  
“I… Look, it was obvious what was happening,” Ron swallowed. “And I just thought that… maybe, maybe he’d changed his mind.”  
“What?”  
“I knew where he lived, Harry told me, Harry’s seen him a few times since the war… and I just think that if you talk to him, Charlie-”  
  
“I can’t believe you,” Charlie spat, and somehow managed to push himself upright in the bed. Pain spiked through his gut and he gasped.  
“Lie down,” Bill spun to him.  
“Why the fuck would you go to him?” Charlie gasped through the agony. “He doesn’t want me, he doesn’t want to know!”  
“But he does!”   
  
“GET THE FUCK OUT!”  
  
Charlie’s anger spread through his body with every laboured pump of his heart. He had no idea where it was coming from, especially not for Ron, whom he never yelled at, never really even crossed words with. The colour blanched from his littlest brother’s face and even Bill took a step back.  
  
“You need to calm down,” Bill held out his hand again.  
  
“Where do you get off meddling?” Charlie yelled, his throat scratching hoarse. “First the house, now this… I went to Snape, he doesn’t give a shit about me or my baby!”  
  
His chest juddered and he swallowed away his next words, knowing he would never have any peace if he spoke them.  
  
“Snape?” Bill’s eyes were comically wide. “Severus Snape? The father of your… oh my God…” he took a step back and his hands rose to his mouth.  
  
“And you can shut the fuck up too,” Charlie snarled at him. “Don’t judge me.”  
“I wasn’t!” Bill protested, “It’s just a shock.”  
  
“I can’t believe you,” Charlie seethed at Ron. “Where the fuck do you get off messing with my life, Ron? Is your own so unbelievably boring now the fucking war’s over you need to take up an occupation in…. fucking things up?!”  
  
More pain shot through his stomach then and he collapsed backward, landing on his pillows, clutching his stomach.  
  
“I’m going to get the Healer,” Bill’s voice was fraught again.  
“No,” Charlie begged, shaking his head. “Don’t.”  
“Charlie, you need a healer,” Ron’s voice was shaking.  
  
“DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE?!”   
  
Charlie hadn’t meant to scream it, but it corresponded with a driving stab into his spine.  
  
“Ron, you stay with him,” Bill instructed.  
“No, I want you out, you fucking prick,” Charlie didn’t even know what he was saying as madness set into his blood, and the words he screamed were not his own. “Out…”  
  
And then something happened which he really hadn’t expected; a wave of emotion crashed on his head and he blinked back tears before giving way to them, hanging his head, frozen by the pain wracking his body. Words refused to come.  
  
“I’ll go,” Ron’s soft voice broke his heart.  
  
***  
Once he had calmed down, the pain subsided to a bearable level. The Healer railed at Bill for ‘letting him’ give over to his devastation but Bill didn’t have any words for the man, much like Charlie didn’t have any words for his brother.  
  
“Charlie, I think Snape’s still outside, what do you want me to do?” Bill whispered in his ear. “You’re a mess, you shouldn’t…”  
“Let him in,” Charlie couldn’t believe how dead his voice sounded. “It can’t get any worse than this, can it?”  
“Shh,” Bill dropped his face and placed a familial kiss on Charlie’s damp hair. “It’s alright.”  
“It’s not,” Charlie breathed. “Ron’s…”  
“We’ll deal with Ron.”  
“And I…”  
“What?”  
“You shouldn’t have brought me here, Bill. You should have just let it… let me…”  
“You’re off your fucking head,” Bill growled. “No.”  
“Nearly losing it hasn’t changed anything,” Charlie desperately whispered. “Nothing. I can’t feel relief, I never wanted it. You’re all looking at me like I should be thanking them on bended knee for saving my baby and I can’t, Bill-”  
  
There was a knock on the door and Bill’s head snapped up.  
  
“I am… my apologies, for interrupting,” Severus’ face was pale in the clinical hospital candlelight. “But your mother is coming.”  
“Fuck,” Bill flew upright. “I told them to keep her at bay for a bit.”  
  
He strode to the door. “I’ll be back,” he promised Charlie. “And none of this shit, Charlie, neither you nor that baby are kicking the bucket whilst I’ve got anything to do with it.”  
  
The little waver, and how hard the door slammed was testament to just how much Bill felt his words and Charlie began to shake on the bed. It worsened when he realised that he was now alone in the room with the father of his baby.  
  
“Don’t,” he shook his head, turning into the pillow. “Just go, I’m sorry Ron… I’m sorry he…”  
“Your brother did what he thought was right,” Severus’ voice was curt. “He placed himself in my position and thought I deserved the chance to…”  
“See your son die?” Charlie gasped.  
  
“I do not think that was his intention, and I’m sure that deep down, Charlie, you don’t either.”  
  
Charlie didn’t know what to say to that and he just wished he was alone, too far gone to notice the use of his first name, the softness of the man’s voice. But Severus stepped up to the side of the bed then and looked down at him.  
  
“I am aware that you are in immense amounts of pain, I read the literature you left me.”  
“You did?” Charlie looked up at him.  
“Of course I did,” Severus glared. “My reaction was born from shock and my mind would not let me rest until I had devoured all the information you had given me about it.”  
“Oh…”  
“I will leave now, as you are so unwell, and so upset,” Severus’ look was close to pity, and Charlie hated it. “But… I am glad your brother came to me. It has made me… re-evaluate some things. Might I see you again, when you are better?”  
“S-sure,” Charlie murmured. “But I…”  
“I expect nothing,” Severus dismissed him with a raised hand. “Nothing at all, Charlie.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Charlie muttered, burying his face as much as he could in his pillow, not caring that he was pathetic.  
“What for?”  
  
Charlie wasn’t sure what he was sorry for, but he knew he was sorry.  
  
 _Sorry for not giving a shit about your baby in my stomach, not caring that I nearly lost it and that I nearly lost me in the process, sorry you saw me yelling at my favourite baby brother, sorry that you’ve heard me scream in agony when I’m nothing to you, when you have no reason to be here in the middle of the night…_  
  
“Owl me, when you are ready,” Severus said quietly.  
“My family…they know now,” Charlie said through gritted teeth as pain curled around his innards again.  
“Secrets are rarely secrets within family for long,” Severus answered him, and with another nod of his head, turned from the room.  
  
Charlie rolled onto his side, clutching his belly with his hands, hating so very much that he was trapped. Everything was falling apart, as he had known it would. Bill had heard his true feelings on the matter, what he had been secretly thinking, maybe even hoping for, since he had been told he was expecting.  
  
When his mother descended into the room, Charlie couldn’t speak to her. He just stayed quiet; a new flow of steady tears coursing silently down his face, and Bill answered all of her questions.  
  
“I should go and find Ron,” Bill whispered into Charlie’s ear.  
  
Their eyes met and Charlie nodded miserably. He closed his eyes to the sight of Bill’s hair whipping round the doorframe, the leather trousers looking hideously uncomfortable in the more severe surroundings.  
  
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” his mum soothed, brushing back the hair off his forehead. “We’ll fix you.”  
 _  
I don’t fucking want to be fixed._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Accidental and unwanted MPreg, Angst, Language, masturbation.

“The amount of times we’ve been owled for your injuries I’m thrilled you’ve made it to twenty-nine,” Molly fussed over Charlie as he sat at the family kitchen table, glumly having to acknowledge his birthday.  
“I told them not to send every single one of those ruddy owls, as well,” he grinned at her.  
  
He’d only been out of hospital for a day, and he was unbelievably grateful. Stuck in the confines of the old walls he couldn’t hide his disdain for his situation, the Healers had descended and plugged him full of anti-depressant potions and an annoying calm had settled over his body. Finally released he knew he would have to follow their medication schedule, and he had been lumbered with one home visit per week to check all was well, but at least he wasn’t still _there_.  
  
“Come on you old git,” Bill poked him in the shoulder. “Blow out your birthday candles.”  
“I’ll do it on the bargain that not one of you mentions a wish,” Charlie looked between the people in the room, and although they exchanged unhappy glances, eventually each of them nodded their acquiescence.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Charlie exhaled it in the direction of his birthday cake and doused them in one go, like usual, and looked up. “Can we eat it now? I’m starving.”  
  
The kitchen bustled to life around him and Charlie was glad the focus dropped away from him. Outside the house it was freezing and he was glad of the warm fire in the kitchen. His parents were there, and Bill with Fleur, and George, but Ginny, Harry and Percy were missing. And Ron.  
  
But Charlie swallowed, not wanting to think about that on his birthday. Not when everything was so peaceful, and normal, and pseudo-happy.  
  
 _Fabulous timing._  
  
There was a determined flutter-kick in his belly and he sighed. His mother had just fallen into the chair next to him and he reached out and picked up her hand. She shot him a worried look but he gave her a smile and pressed it to his gut, where the sensation continued.  
  
“Oh my –Charlie, that’s wonderful!”  
  
 _No, it’s not wonderful, and at any rate… bit old now…_  
  
He tried his best to give a happy smile for her as she pressed her other palm to his swollen belly and gave a little laugh at the sensation.   
  
“Are we belly-groping?” Bill asked with a wry grin.  
“No, hey, get off!” Charlie swatted at him as Bill’s large hand landed above their mother’s.  
“Wow, feel that,” Bill became a little breathless.  
“Oh lord, ‘e will be on about number two soon,” Fleur smiled.  
  
 _Want this one?_  
  
Charlie didn’t even bother to mentally scold himself and patiently waited for all of the hands on his body to disappear.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Molly suddenly sniffed, and when he looked up her face was awash with tears. “I’ll just…” she pushed her chair back and fled from the kitchen. They all watched her go until Arthur followed dutifully, like he always did, and Bill looked uneasily down into Charlie’s face.  
“I think she’s just a bit… you know what she’s like with babies Char.”  
“I theenk she cried more zan I did my entire pregnancy,” Fleur sympathised.  
“You’re still touching my gut,” Charlie poked at Bill’s hand. “Or are you harbouring some gayness you never admitted.”  
“And why woz I not eenformed?” Fleur demanded with a wink at Charlie.  
  
Bill threw his head back and let out an evil cackle which, Charlie couldn’t help it, brought a silly grin to his sombre face. He could always rely on Bill to cheer him up.  
  
He watched as Bill and Fleur exchanged a sweet kiss and a grin, George gagged and smirked as he left the living room, and then Victoire’s shriek was magnified through the house as she awoke.  
  
“Madame eez awake,” Fleur rose to her feet and flitted from the kitchen.   
  
Bill sighed and dropped down next to Charlie. “Never got to the cake.”  
“S’all right,” Charlie grinned. “More for me later.”  
“Still hungry at night?”  
“I can’t stop eating,” Charlie moaned. “I’m going to lose all my muscle tone and just be fat.”  
“No you won’t,” Bill soothed at him. “You’ll be fine. You’ll have it, run like mad around the country lanes and be putting us skinny buggers to shame again in no time.”  
  
Charlie grinned at him and stretched his arms out over his head with a yawn. It was late and he’d been at the house all afternoon, he wanted a nap.  
  
If there was one thing to be said for pregnancy, it was the amount of siestas it awarded him. Charlie was becoming quite the expert at curling up –anywhere, it seemed- and enjoying a good sleep for a few hours in the afternoon. Being with his family for the better part of the day he had missed his chance for it.  
  
“Tired?” Bill’s voice was concerned.  
“Absolutely knackered,” Charlie’s words were more yawn than speech and he leant forward and rested his forehead on the table, his belly feeling awkward in between his chest and thighs.  
  
“Char?”  
“Mm?” he groaned, not liking the deep and meaningful tone in that affectionate nickname.  
“Has it really not changed anything for you, almost losing him?”  
  
He didn’t answer immediately and felt a tentative hand in the small of his back. It was odd, considering Bill was his only older brother, but it was nice all the same, to have the comforting touch. His heart gave a rather melodramatic throb.  
  
“No,” he kept his voice polite.  
“What about feeling him today?” Bill’s voice grew quieter.  
“I’ve felt him before,” Charlie shrugged. “Before your birthday.”  
“Why didn’t you say?”  
“Didn’t want you all to fuss, you know how you all love to fuss.”  
“Because you’re worth fussing, Char. You know that. We’re not going to abandon one of our own!”  
  
“It hasn’t changed anything,” Charlie repeated. “I’m still unhappy; I still don’t want this, but… for the sake of everyone else I can deal with it.”  
“You shouldn’t hide how you truly feel, though?”  
“Fuck’s sake,” Charlie flew upright. “One minute you’re telling me that I need to buck up and the next you’re telling me to let it all out and tell you my _feelings_.”  
“Alright-” Bill tried to cover his mistake.  
  
Charlie got to his feet and shook back his hair. Deftly he gathered up the overly generous gifts his family had gotten him for his birthday and shrunk them to fit in his bag.  
  
“Don’t go,” Bill moaned. “I’m sorry, Char, really. It’s just a…”  
“I know,” Charlie shrugged.  
“I’m sorry?”  
“I know.”  
“Whilst we’re at it,” Bill dropped his blue eyes to the table. “And you’re already mad with me… have you spoken to Ron yet?”  
“No,” Charlie reached for the lid to the plastic box his cake was still sitting in and pressed it into place.  
“Is that because you’re still angry with him or because he’s too scared to come and talk to you?”  
“A healthy mix of both, I think,” Charlie muttered, keeping his eyes firmly on his fingers.  
  
He couldn’t deny it. Though his words had been those shouted in agony, and they had been uncharacteristically harsh from his lips, Charlie had been given far too much time to ruminate over them stuck in his uncomfortable hospital bed. As far as he knew everyone had tried to get Ron to come and talk to him, but Ron, perhaps knowing what was good for him, or perhaps too hurt by what his favourite older brother had said to him, had refused.  
  
Charlie did miss him. The hospital would have been cheerier with Ron’s smiling face by the side of his bed, cracking jokes and making sarcastic comments about his Healers. Ron was the only one who really seemed to understand his hesitance. Without him Charlie felt lost.  
  
But not lost enough to hunt him out. He had been disappointed that Ron hadn’t come for his birthday but then he had admitted that if their positions had been reversed, he wouldn’t have turned up either.  
  
 _Now, there’s a weird thought… Ron pregnant with a belly… that would be so fucking weird._  
  
“You’ve gone a bit glazed,” Bill peered at him. “You alright?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Thinking about Ron?”  
“Yeah,” Charlie admitted, picking up the cake box.   
“Just owl him, Char.”  
“I’ve already sent out enough difficult owls in the last few weeks,” Charlie made a face, thinking of the letter he had written to Severus.  
“Still nothing back from him?”  
  
“Nothing,” Charlie shifted the bag on his back, noting how the box was jutting out as he rested it against his distended stomach. “I told you there wouldn’t be. What Ron did just guilt-tripped him and whilst he thought the baby was dying, he panicked.”  
“You can’t know what’s going on in his head,” Bill reasoned. “He might actually be interested. He certainly looked it.”  
“I’m not counting my chickens,” Charlie shrugged. “He doesn’t care about us, and I’m not blaming him for that. I’m doing this by myself.”  
  
Bill didn’t say anything but looked at him strangely.  
  
“What?” Charlie frowned.  
“You just said ‘us’,” Bill swallowed. “The first time I’ve heard you say that… talk about you and your child as a unit.”  
  
Charlie flushed, the heat creeping right the way up his aching spine and tingling on the nape of his neck.  
  
“Make my excuses to Mum and Dad for me?” Charlie beseeched him, pulling open the door.  
“Sure,” Bill sighed, slumping in his seat. “If you get lonely tonight… you know where I am, right?”  
“I know,” Charlie gave him a small smile and stepped out into the freezing yard.  
  
December was proving particularly chilly and he shivered, wishing he’d remembered to grab his jacket before running away from the family home. He walked down to the lane and turned right, heading for his tiny little house. It didn’t feel quite right living there now that he and Ron were at odds; if he was honest he felt a complete arsehole for being wrapped up in Ron’s protective nature when they weren’t speaking.  
  
Scuffing his boots along the potholed tarmac he lost himself in the absolute darkness of the countryside, listening to the sounds of the nature in the trees. It should have frightened him, to be so alone in the dark, probably even more so with what he carried in his gut.  
  
But Charlie had spent far too long in the dragon reserve camping in the black for it to bother him. His chest suddenly ached for his old job. His friends sent monthly updates and their love, but it wasn’t the same. Rummaging in his pocket for his keys he yawned, thinking about the possibility of a long hot bath before bed.  
 _  
And maybe a sandwich. And some cake, ooh, cake._  
  
Charlie had always had a massive appetite but in the hospital his sickness had calmed only to be replaced with a ferocious need for food. Belly grumbling he turned up the driveway to his house, another helpless yawn tumbling from his lips. He was climbing the steps of the porch before he realised there was somebody standing on it. His head snapped up and then his eyes widened as he froze.  
  
“Severus?”  
“Is this a bad time?”  
“No, I’m… Godric, sorry, have you been waiting long?”  
“Only around five minutes,” Severus stepped out of the way of the front door. “I was just about to give up, and… if I could work up the nerve, try your parents’ house.”  
“I was there,” Charlie shifted the bag awkwardly, clutching the cake. “It’s my birthday and they were smothering me with love.”  
  
Severus said nothing and Charlie chewed on the inside of his cheek, wondering what he should do.   
  
“Um, would you like to come in?” Charlie stepped up to the top level. “Cup of tea and um, some cake? I could eat the lot but I’d only cry about it later.”  
  
 _Oh, wonderful, now you’re thinking **and** sounding like a fucking woman, as well as looking like one._  
  
“That would be… yes,” Severus nodded, and it was obvious in the stiff set of the man’s shoulders that he was every bit as nervous as Charlie was.  
  
Charlie unlocked the front door and turned on the lights, throwing the keys on the table by the entrance. He dropped his bag on the sofa and walked the box into the kitchen, taking a sly moment to rub his back which was slowly driving him mad. It wasn’t until he turned that he realised Severus was watching him.  
  
“Sorry,” Charlie muttered, putting the kettle on the stove. “It’s worse when I don’t get to sleep in the afternoon, and I was at Mum and Dad’s for hours.”  
“I’m glad that they sought to give you a birthday celebration,” Severus’ voice was clipped as he stood awkwardly.  
“It was good of them,” Charlie pulled mugs out of a cupboard. “But they can be a bit much… as you might have seen in the hospital.”  
  
Severus made a non-committal noise in his throat and looked away.  
  
“I’m sorry, by the way,” Charlie frowned, dropping teabags into the mugs. “That you heard what happened between me and Ron.”  
“I think the entire hospital heard what transpired between you and your brother,” Severus commented. “I wouldn’t worry about your apology. Families are… complicated.”  
“We haven’t spoken since then.”  
 _  
Why, why did I just tell you that? Fuck’s sake._  
  
“I apologise,” Severus sighed.  
“Why?” Charlie turned to look at him.  
“Because it was my presence which caused your rift, if I had not have come with him, then you would never have argued.”  
  
“You don’t have to get apologetic for things that weren’t your fault,” Charlie reached for the milk. “Because that’s not the Severus Snape I remember, so please don’t put on act for me.”  
 _  
There’s that hormone-induced rudeness. Bollocks._  
  
“Gods, look, I’m not… I’m tired.”  
“Would you like me to leave?” Severus asked morosely.  
“Before I answer that, tell me why you’re here?” Charlie implored.  
“We need to talk,” Severus levelled. “But if you are tired then we should postpone it until you feel more capable.”  
  
“What is there to talk about?” Charlie tried to stop his hand from trembling as he poured boiling water over the teabags.   
“I thought that I owed you an explanation,” Severus said awkwardly. “As to why I… that night… and then why when you came to inform me of your pregnancy I acted so despicably.”  
  
Charlie didn’t answer but turned and handed the man his mug. “Is that alright?”  
“Fine, thank you.”  
  
Tight lipped smiles passed between them and suddenly Charlie felt a million times more tired than he had walking along the dark lane.  
  
 _Should have wandered off into the trees and got lost whilst you could._  
  
Shaking the macabre thought away, he tried to make himself open to what Severus might want to say. He had spent every day since he had sent the owl hoping that the man would get in touch and now that he had Charlie owed him his attention.  
  
“So, do you own the house?” Severus asked, stepping gracefully backwards into the living room to let Charlie pass.  
“Yeah, it’s… Ron built it for me.”  
“Your brother built you a house?” Severus asked in disbelief.  
“I know,” Charlie grimaced. “He’s hell on a mission. After… speaking with you, I went back to Romania to talk to my bosses at the reserve and when I returned he had done this. It’s not a lot but it’s more than I could ever have asked for. Tour?”  
  
Severus simply looked back at him and Charlie just pointed. “Living room, kitchen, bathroom and a bedroom. There’s a loft and there’s a shed and a huge garden… which he offered to plant for me when the season for vegetables came but… who knows now…”  
“I am frankly amazed that he was able to do it.”  
“He’s talented,” Charlie shrugged. “Nobody ever gives him quite enough credit for just how clever he is, even after the war.”  
“Accomplished,” Severus said simply, and Charlie nodded.  
“Have a seat,” he gestured to the sofa.  
“Might I ask why you aren’t talking now?” the man kept his dark eyes on the mug which had to be burning his fingers. Charlie was only able to hold onto his with the scalding water inside due to the amount of years he had spent being burned by his charges.  
  
“I’m… angry that he went behind my back,” Charlie scuffed his boot on the carpet which he then kicked off and followed it with the other one.  
“Not because you disliked my presence there?”  
“I would rather you not have seen me howling in agony, doesn’t do much for my street cred,” Charlie gave him a playful smile. “But no, it was just his… I was upset. What I said was unfair, but if he won’t come to me, and I’m too proud to go to him…”  
  
“Families are complicated,” Severus sighed, and leant back on the sofa.  
“Exactly,” Charlie toasted him with the mug and crossed to sit a respectable distance away from him on the upholstery.  
  
“I don’t know where to begin,” Severus’ voice was subdued.  
“Me either,” Charlie breathed. “It’s…”  
“I suppose I should start with an apology,” Severus looked down at his thighs. “For my actions on that night, for my… desperation, the way I handled you.”  
“Well if we’re getting into that I should probably apologise for the mess I made of your expensive bed sheets,” Charlie winced.  
  
He was surprised to hear a dark little laugh out of Severus’ lips and when he looked the man was actually smiling.  
  
“No matter about the sheets,” Severus reached forward and set his tea on the coffee table. “You were well worth the loss.”  
  
“I thought you didn’t remember?” Charlie blurted.  
“I didn’t,” Severus sighed. “And that is why I’m here, mainly. To explain that expulsion from my memory. Ron… implied that you had been greatly offended by that, and I completely understand.”  
“What else did he say?” Charlie muttered hotly.  
“I forgot because of a long-lasting affect from my injuries sustained in the war,” Severus ploughed on, ignoring his angry question.  
“The snake bite?” Charlie’s curiosity won out.  
  
Severus paused and looked down at his fingers, which were tapping together in a nervous cage on his thighs. “Yes, the venom. My memory was affected. Or, I should say, my ability to retain information. It worsens with alcohol. And I’m sure you will remember the amount we consumed between us that evening.”  
“Oh yeah, my head was pounding for two days,” Charlie grinned wryly.  
“Exactly. I have a vague recollection of asking you to leave, and the door closing, but before that there was nothing until I saw the memories in your own mind.”  
“And then?” Charlie couldn’t deny he was fascinated.  
  
“The Healers, as much as I despise them, taught me a process of deep meditation which enables me to locate the missing links, which, after I had had a stiff drink and read the documentation you left me from cover to cover, I immediately did. It is painful to search but I needed to see it from my own perspective to believe what was happening. Believe me when I say that it wasn’t that I didn’t trust you, it is merely an aspect of my personality.”  
  
Charlie shrugged. “Fuck, I had no idea it was something like that. Surely it can get…”  
“Dangerous? Terrifying?” Severus finished for him with a sour look on his face. “Exactly, Weasley, this is why I keep meticulous records of everything I do and why I rarely step out into the public arena anymore, other than to work.”  
“That’s so unfair,” Charlie said glumly. “That you have to hide away like that.”  
“It does not bother me as maybe it would you,” Severus shrugged. “I have never been the most sociable of men.”  
  
“A wonder we ended up together,” Charlie sipped at his tea thoughtfully.  
“We were both very lonely that night,” Severus mused.  
“And don’t know about you but I’m still very lonely now,” he had just noticed a letter waiting on his hearth and idly wondered who it was from. But having a guest he didn’t get up to inspect it.  
  
Severus didn’t comment and carried on talking. “So that is why I didn’t remember being with you, and I apologise for my immediate reaction. I can’t comprehend how that must have made you feel.”  
“I understand,” Charlie wasn’t going to say it hadn’t hurt, hadn’t cut him up, because it had.  
  
Silence fell between them and Charlie had to shift as pain started to spike through his lower back.  
  
“When did you get released from hell, then?” Severus asked.  
“Only yesterday,” Charlie groaned as he leant back and threw his feet up onto the low table. “I really didn’t want to go out today but… well. You’ve seen what they’re like.”  
“Did you receive anything nice for your birthday?”  
  
Charlie only just stopped himself laughing in time. It felt so surreal to sit there and talk about such things with Severus Snape, a man who had never given him the time of day when he was a student, given him even less on the few occasions they met during their work for the Order and who blatantly ignored him at the commemorative ceremonies. Up until they had fucked each other there had been absolutely no extraordinary contact between them at all. So to sit and discuss birthday gifts was a little too much.  
  
“You are awkward making conversation with me,” Severus sighed, and got to his feet. “I understand, Charlie. I’ll see myself out.”  
“No,” Charlie closed his eyes. “Please don’t go. You’re the first person who hasn’t fawned over me in two weeks. Please sit down.”  
“Would you like me to fawn?” Severus gracefully arched an eyebrow and Charlie snorted.  
“Fuck no, you start that shit, _then_ I’ll throw you out.”  
  
Severus sat back down.  
  
“Sorry for my language, it was bad before the baby but now it’s ten times worse.”  
“If anybody has reason to swear, Charlie, it’s you.”  
“I suppose,” Charlie shrugged.  
  
“So… do you mind telling me a little about it?” Severus asked quietly. “Obviously there’s very little literature available unless you are the carrier.”  
“It’s not that different from a female pregnancy,” Charlie heaved himself off the sofa and staggered a little.  
  
A cool hand steadied his back and he froze, his skin bursting alive with energy as Severus touched him.  
  
“Sorry,” the man removed it immediately and Charlie stood up straight.  
“Its fine,” he murmured, and crossed to the bookshelf. “These are what the hospital gave me,” he pulled the well thumbed books out. “I’ve read them, so just bring them back when you’re finished. They want them back when this out of me.”  
“So generous,” Severus groused.  
“I get the feeling you hate the hospital as much as I do,” Charlie grinned and pressed them into Severus’ lap which the man immediately shrunk and slipped into his pocket. “That’s good, common ground.”  
“Our common ground is not our child growing in your stomach?”  
  
The question hovered in the air and it sucked all of Charlie’s breath from his lungs.  
  
“Our child?” he blinked stupidly. “You mean you’re… acknowledging it?”  
  
Severus frowned at him. “Of course, I’m not an imbecile –I wouldn’t dispute hard medical fact, Charlie.”  
“But that…”  
“I told you,” Severus said calmly. “We need to talk.”  
“What about?” Charlie folded his muscled arms over his chest and looked down at the floor.  
“What kind of support, if any, you would like from me.”  
Charlie swayed on his feet then and Severus looked at him worriedly.  
  
“Sit down?”  
“You can’t ask me to do that in my own house,” Charlie breathed and reached up to drag shaking fingers through his hair.  
“I know, but I’d rather you didn’t pass out with only me here,” Severus glared at him. “I would hate for your family to think of foul play.”  
“They wouldn’t,” Charlie began to pace around the sofa. “They’d think it was me swallowing something stupid.”  
“Would you do that?” Severus’ voice was quiet.  
  
“Don’t ask me things you won’t like the answer to.”  
“I might not like them but I would at the very least understand,” Severus offered.  
“Why?” Charlie was aware of his eyebrows shooting into his hair.  
“I make potions,” Severus said simply. “Poisons, both natural and synthetic, are at my fingertips daily. I would be the most awful hypocrite if I denied that at the worst points of my life I had never considered using them.”  
  
Charlie stopped dead and looked at him, and wondered if the melting relief washing through him showed on his face.  
  
“Okay,” he breathed. “I won’t do anything to harm the baby, or myself, as much as I hate this.”  
“And you do hate it?” Severus licked his lips nervously.  
“More than I thought I could hate anything in my life,” Charlie put one hand on his belly. “And I can’t even feel any guilt that the baby might hear that, might know its father hates it. What kind of person does that make me, Severus?”  
  
“One who has had a weight placed on his shoulders that he should never have been burdened with,” Severus said pointedly.  
  
Charlie deflated then, hearing it from someone else felt so good. But he was confused. “Don’t you… don’t you think I’m childish for feeling that way? That I should just shut up and accept it?”  
“If I were you, I don’t foresee I would act differently.”  
“Gods, Severus, I’m… they all treat me like I’m mad not to care about it.”  
“Because none of them have gone through life assuming they would be free of childbearing, and being glad of that fact. To them this is a natural progression.”  
“And you?”  
  
Severus blinked a few times. “Maybe I wished for them, once, when I was younger. But my life quickly took turns which meant that it would never happen for me. So I forgot the wish.”  
“And now?” Charlie was aware his questions were stupidly short, but he could only keep on asking.  
“I honestly cannot tell you how I feel about this,” Severus’ thin hand gestured between them and he sighed. “About _what_ you’re carrying in your belly which, whether we like it or not, belongs to us, and is made from us.”  
  
Charlie realised his hand was still curled around his bump and he looked down at it, waiting to see if the baby would kick now that it’s other father was in the room.  
  
 _Other father… your life has become one of those godawful stories in Witch Weekly. You’re a literary soap opera. What a wonderful accolade. Who needs dragon taming?_  
  
“If you don’t know how you feel,” Charlie said finally, looking up and narrowing his eyes a little, “Why are you here, Severus?”  
“Because you asked me to come,” Severus answered. “Your letter. I assumed that as you sent the note you would be open to conversation on the matter and I hoped that it would help me clear my own mind, help me make my decisions.”  
“And what decisions do you have to make?” Charlie’s voice grew quieter with every word.  
“Those depend wholly on you, Charlie,” Severus shook his head. “This is your life. I do not want to ruin it any more than I already have with carelessness.”  
“Please don’t tell me you’re blaming yourself for this?” Charlie moaned, closing his eyes.  
“It is hard not to. I should have done what I wanted to do that night.”  
  
“Which was?” Charlie watched as the man unfolded from the sofa and wrung his hands in front of him.  
“Asked you to top,” Severus looked embarrassedly out of the living room window, the curtains not yet pulled over the glass.  
  
Charlie shivered, the cold of his house seeming to sink into his bones instantaneously with the words, the admission that Severus had wanted him to top.  
  
“But you asked me,” Charlie remembered aloud. “You asked me and I asked you to fuck me because I…”  
“You were tense,” Severus finished for him. “You wanted the sex because you thought it would work it out of you.”  
“It did,” Charlie said fairly. “It was amazing.”  
  
Severus said nothing and turned away, idly sauntering to the bookcase and pretending to peruse the shelves there.  
  
“Do you read to it?” he asked suddenly.  
“Er, what?” Charlie snorted.  
“Read to it,” Severus gestured to the books. “I know that you… what you implied about what the baby might be hearing. If you read to it, maybe it would appease your guilt. It is common for mothers to talk to their bumps and read and sing to it, believing that the babies become used to the sound of their voices.”  
“Does that work?” Charlie asked sceptically.  
  
“If it doesn’t, then it at least makes them feel better,” Severus shrugged and glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late. I shouldn’t keep you.”  
“Its fine,” Charlie shook his head, curls bouncing.  
  
Talking with Severus made him feel so strange, but alive, and he didn’t want the man to walk out of his cottage if he was never going to return again.  
  
“What do you want from me, Charlie?” Severus asked, pain evident in his voice.  
“Nothing,” Charlie answered automatically. “It was why I never chased you –I accepted your decision in staying out of all this.”  
“Don’t lie to me,” Severus said softly. “In your mind… when you gave me permission to look at the memories of our night together… I sensed your need for a partner, Charlie, I felt it through you. I know that you need support through this.”  
  
“Then why are you asking me?” Charlie shrugged, throwing his hands wide. “If you’ve already seen the answer why do you need to bring it up now?”  
“Because people change,” Severus pointed out. “Did you ever think you would scream at your little brother the way you did, as if you were possessed?”  
  
Charlie was taken aback by his frank assessment of his treatment of Ron, and balked at it. “I…”  
  
“I need to know, Charlie,” Severus’ voice became urgent, “I need to know what it is you need from me. If you need financial support I am happy and well equipped to provide it –I received an adequate pension for my services after the war, once my name had been cleared, and I earn a good living with my business. If you need help, do not hesitate to ask and your Weasley pride will do no good in resisting. I will find a way to help you if it reaches me that you need it.”  
  
There was something burning in the black eyes which Charlie had never dreamt to see there –the amount of passion in the onyx pools astonished him.  
  
“If you require _more_ of me –if you require my emotional support, then you must tell me, Charlie. It has been a long time since I have attempted to offer that to anybody, and I will be honest and admit I have never done so to somebody who stood to become as important to me as you would.”  
  
Charlie massaged his bump again, the words spinning into his mind far too fast to process.  
  
“Why are you offering me this?” he breathed finally. “You didn’t want anything to do with me.”  
“People change,” Severus repeated. “And I had begun to change long before your brother thudded on my front door explaining that you were about to lose our child. I was curious, I was worried and more than anything I was sorry for the mess I had landed you in, even if neither of us had a way of knowing what we were getting into.”  
  
“You’re doing this because you’re sorry?” Charlie hissed. “I don’t need pity, Snape, get out.”  
  
The air was thick with tension and Charlie’s heart was making a mockery of him in his chest. He felt like he couldn’t keep up with it and swayed again, gripping the back of the sofa for support.  
  
“No, Charlie, I’m not doing it because I’m sorry, not primarily. I can’t… I can’t get this, you, our situation, out of my mind.”  
“It’s not ‘our’ situation,” Charlie couldn’t believe he was turning down Severus’ offer –everything he had dreamed of since the man had turned him away- “It’s mine. Not yours. Mine.”  
  
Severus took a deep breath then and smoothed an anxious hand over his lips, seemingly lost for words.  
  
“Are you willing?” the question slipped from Charlie’s lips before he could stop it. “If I needed you to be here for me…emotionally, and everything that would bring with it, would you be willing?”  
“Understand something,” Severus closed his eyes, suddenly looking immensely vulnerable in Charlie’s friendly little living room. “I have not had a relationship since the first war. I am not a man used to considering others… romantically. I have been a pawn in two wars and played my part well but I have problems with trust.”  
  
“Who doesn’t?” Charlie sighed. “Look I… appreciate you coming… I do… but you sound so unsure of yourself, Snape, so…”  
“I needed to know what you wanted from me,” Severus held up a hand. “Before I could think any further. I continued looping in vicious thought circles and it merely infuriated me. Coming here I intended to ascertain your true feelings on what you need. I will take any answer you give me, Charlie, and work to what you desire.”  
  
Charlie couldn’t help but think the man was being extremely generous. There he stood carrying the surviving member of the Snape bloodline in his belly and the man was telling him he would walk away if that was what Charlie wanted. And Charlie realised he couldn’t do that to him.  
 _  
Fuck my big fucking heart to hell and back._  
  
“I… if you are willing, Severus, then you’re right. I do need someone here to help me through this, to rub my back, fuck –rub anything that hurts because trust me, it _all_ hurts. To mop up my face when it all gets too much. Are you willing to do that?”  
  
Severus didn’t answer but his face paled. “I…I am unsure.”  
  
Charlie shivered. “Then Severus, this has to… I have to have something concrete. I’m such a mess, easily upset, and I don’t want this. I need someone, a lover to help me through it. My brothers can try but they’re not the same, they can’t offer the same level of support…”  
  
“I don’t know,” Severus’ answer was cracked with honesty and when Charlie looked at him he saw the man staring ashamedly at the floor.  
  
“Then go,” Charlie sighed. “And… please don’t come back until you do know. I’m here nearly all the time, or down the road at Mum and Dad’s. You can reach me at any time.”  
  
Severus swallowed and nodded. “That seems fair.”  
  
The man walked towards the front door.  
“Severus?” Charlie asked.   
“Mm?”  
“Thank you for coming.”  
“I’m sorry it was on your birthday, my timing was awful.”  
  
Charlie disagreed. Even though his heart ached with everything he suddenly stood to lose when Severus walked out of the front door, his presence had been the best birthday gift anybody could have given him. But he wasn’t going to admit that, not yet.  
  
“Thank you,” he repeated firmly.  
  
Severus gave him a polite nod of his head and then, with a gentle click of the door he was gone.  
  
Charlie looked at it for a moment before groaning and burying his face in his fingers.  
  
***  
  
Charlie had never been one for baths. This had mainly been due to the fact that his bathroom in Romania had only had a shower –the best damned shower in the complex- and he had never missed it. Of course he had used and shagged in the Prefect’s Bathroom at Hogwarts, which his Quidditch Captain badge had privileged him to use; he remembered many happy hours playing with the different taps and varieties of bubbles.  
  
 _And all the lovely fucks you had up against the side…_  
  
Even though he was depressed, a hazy smile curled up his lips and he closed his eyes. He was surrounded by the hottest water his body and bump could take, which was a pitifully low temperature, to try and ease his aches and pains. Ron had added the bath when he built the bathroom, making it long and deep enough for him to be able to sink under the water.  
 _  
Just another thing your little brother got right for you and then you chased him away being an utter prick._  
  
None of his family had mentioned if they blamed him or not for the things he had said to Ron, in fact, beyond Bill that afternoon none of them had really mentioned Ron at all, not even his absence at the Sunday lunches. It was as though a black hole had appeared where the youngest Weasley male had once sat, and Charlie felt awful for it.  
  
Sighing he smoothed his hand over his bump, which poked out of the water slightly, and glanced down at it. Convinced that every time he did it had grown another five inches, he was beginning to hate the sight of his own body. He was sure if he owled a list of past lovers and told them as such they would fall down dead. Looking at his freckled skin, muscles, toned chest and thick thighs, Charlie had never particularly had a problem with himself physically. He had watched both Bill and Ron crippled with self-confidence issues and wondered why on earth they were wasting their time fretting when they were both perfect. He had never really cared –people seemed to like him, he didn’t mind himself either, and he went from there.  
  
 _But now with a bump you want to smash every mirror that you see…_  
  
The physicality of it reminded him that whilst his stomach grew his posture dwindled, and he was rather ashamed to admit quite how proud he had been of his physique without ever actually realising it. He hadn’t lost it yet. The letter he had picked off the hearth had proved that much, but it made him dread getting any bigger.  
  
The letter had been a shock. Written in a neat hand with obvious sincerity, he couldn’t believe that a stranger had been as concerned about his ill health as to enquire after him.  
  
The Australian’s handsome face floated in front of his vision and Charlie tried to think back to that night in the club when he had passed out and, in George’s words, ‘spewed blood all over the floor’. On account of that, the letter was definitely surprising. The Australian’s words had been simple, polite and caring, enquiring how he was, if he was still in hospital and mentioning, almost casually, that he had never been as worried over a stranger he had only known for three hours as he had Charlie. The letter had held an address but the man had signed off with notion that he was content to exchange letters for a while, as it seemed that Charlie’s situation was complicated and he didn’t want to crowd him.  
  
 _Very unlike you to pick such a gentleman… normally you pick a rough and ready arsehole who fucks like mad and leaves you. Which up until recently wasn’t a problem at all._  
  
Charlie didn’t want to count up all the lectures Bill had ever given him on finding one person to fuck, and keeping it at one. He had certainly never told his brother about threesomes and moresomes he’d participated in, likely he never would.  
  
 _Christ, imagine if you’d been fucked then… the drama there would have been searching out the father in that._  
  
He was suddenly slammed with the realisation that if the father of his child had been anybody he hadn’t really known, he wouldn’t have bothered to go and tell them about his predicament. If it hadn’t been Severus full stop maybe he wouldn’t have bothered. Confused he sank further into the water and was horrified to feel his eyes welling up as he lay there. Blinking harshly through the burn, he cursed his pregnancy hormones and realised that he was far too tired to be in the bath.  
  
 _Too fucking emotional more like. One depressing thought you’ll slip under the water and drown yourself._  
  
Forcing himself to think back on his conversation with Severus, Charlie ignored the tears as they rolled down his cheeks and amalgamated with the bathwater. The man had looked so confused, so worried. It was odd to see the usually scowling face emotional.  
  
 _He was emotional enough when you touched him._  
  
Charlie’s mind burst forth into a memory then, and he frowned.  
  
 _“Oh, gods…”  
“Fuck!”  
  
The admonishment seemed so strange tumbling out of Severus’ mouth, even if he was drunk, and Charlie blinked stupidly into the gloom of the bedroom. He curled his hand around the cock again and pumped it, keeping his eyes firmly locked on Severus’ face.  
  
The narrow structure contorted, eyes scrunched together, thin lips twisted into pleasure by the work of his hand. The man was completely naked, his hands thrown back behind him with long, thin and black hair-peppered legs stretched out to the end of the double bed. And Charlie mastered the large cock jutting out from a thick thatch of curls at Severus’ groin, watching as it darkened and gathered pearly liquid at the top. What possessed him to bend his head, curls flopping into his face, and curl the secretion from the tip with his tongue, he didn’t know, but the taste –oh Merlin the taste, he thought he might die from the way his heart pounded in his chest.  
  
Dizzy from all of the alcohol consumed he sat up, looking Severus in the eye again and the man was breathing rashly, chest rising and falling, pressing dusky pink nipples into the air. Charlie leant forward and captured his lips, forcing his tongue into Severus’ mouth and making him taste himself. The hungry groan was all he needed to prove to himself that he had found a more than adequate partner for the evening.  
_  
“Fuck it,” he hissed, realising that remembering the night had caused his cock to stir and prod into his belly.   
  
He had never become aroused remembering that evening before and he wondered why it was different lying there in his bath, moping.  
  
 _It has to be because he was here, offering…_  
  
He comforted himself with that thought as his hand snaked over his hip to curl thick and long fingers around his erection and squeezed. It flexed willingly into his palm, and though the tears dripped down his face still, Charlie couldn’t resist indulging himself.  
  
It was _hard_ to defy his body’s urges when he was growing increasingly randy, bringing himself off at all times of the day. He had not detailed that side effect to his mother, that in male pregnancies the need for ejaculation rose steadily until the birth. Sometimes he felt so full that he would never stop. With a groan he tried to stroke without focussing on a face, but then he realised it wouldn’t work. Charlie always focussed on a face; he always focussed on having sex with _somebody_ –either doing something to them, or fucking them.  
  
The man in his fantasy had dark hair, a slim build, almost delicate features and an unfortunate nose. He didn’t even try to fight it as the Severus Snape of his mind bent to his will and let him ravish his body, first with his tongue, then with his hands. Charlie could taste the man in his mouth, just like he had the night their child had been conceived, and he bucked his hips with need, causing the water to slosh around him. It slopped over his belly and he was disgusted with himself to feel that it only heightened his arousal more.  
  
Severus wouldn’t leave his mind, all he wanted to do was caress the body, the greasy hair, stroke it to a trembling completion which the man was clearly in need of. He imagined taking him face to face, to look into those almost-impenetrable eyes as the man came undone, and then to slowly lose control himself, filling Severus with his come and remaining there long after the whirlwind of climax had passed.  
  
Shivering Charlie spilled into the bathwater with his mouth open, but no noise made it out of his throat. Long draws tugged from his cock and he so dearly wished someone was there to lap it away. Imagining Severus doing that near-on killed him, and he sank back into the water, even though it was dirtied with his semen, and let out an unhappy sigh.  
  
Not surprised when the tears welled harder and faster, again he let them fall –even though they had never really stopped, and he tried to sort through the mire for a reason as to why he was crying. Blurrily he looked down at his bump and knew that was a large part of it, but the ache in his chest was something more.  
  
 _It’s him._  
  
Charlie swallowed, throat stinging painfully, and tried to think exactly what about Severus Snape was hurting him so much compared to what had come before.  
 _  
Because before you just thought you couldn’t have it… now…_  
  
Charlie took in a deep gulp of air.  
  
 _Now you know he might be willing, but only if he can force himself to give you emotion… and everything rides on that._  
  
He struggled upright in the water, fighting against his rounded belly as more tears fell down his face, plopping off his chin into the heated liquid. He sniffed. It was the truth –before he had only cried over what he could not have –a partner, his job, a life free of a child, but now he was crying over the child, the loss of his job, and the thought that a partner was dangling just beyond his reach. Overcome with the need to chase Severus down and beg him to fall in love with him, Charlie made himself get out of the bath.  
  
A blood rush assaulted his brain and he wobbled, clutching onto the side of the bath for support. He wasn’t sure whether it was the heat or that, for the first time in his life, he was so desperate for a person to care for him that he would actually get down on his knees and beg.  
  
Feeling sickened with himself he grabbed out for a towel, wrapping it around his waist, but it only slid down his bump and pressed into his sated cock. Growling he ripped it off and roughly dried his skin and the bottom of his hair where it had dipped in the bathwater.  
  
 _This isn’t fucking you._  
  
He turned off the light and passed into the living room, shivering in the cooled air. Walking naked through the house he reached his bedroom and threw himself beneath the duvet with another angry growl, before he rolled over and stuffed his face into the second pillow of the double bed.  
  
 _A second pillow which should hold a second head; a lover’s head._  
  
His mind was cruel enough to show him a display of dark silky hair spread out over the blue cotton, glinting dramatically as moonlight shone through the window upon it.  
  
There was something animalistic about the sob he let out into the pillow before he had to roll over, the pressure on his stomach hurting too much to remain in the position for too long. As he rolled his hand smoothed over the naked skin and the flutter-kick came once more.  
 _  
You really know how to pick your fucking moments, don’t you?!_  
  
Reaching up he sank his fingers into his hair and tugged, a self-destructive motion from when he was younger and he would have nightmares and end up tugging on his hair to wake himself up. Bill had always been there then to stop him, untangle his fingers and give him a hug. That hadn’t been normal but then they’d always been closer than everybody expected.  
  
Charlie’s fingers itched, he wanted his wand. He wanted to summon his brother, not knowing whether he was still at the house or if he had retreated to his own home all the way on the coast with his wife. It felt wrong to want to call him, as though, as an adult, Charlie should be able to handle the nightmares by himself.  
  
But it was different, a waking nightmare which wasn’t going away, no matter what he did. Jaw trembling, he thrust out his hand and groped for his wand on the bedside table and gripped it so hard he thought it might snap.  
  
He didn’t know who to call. Any one of his family would have run to his side, Bill was his initial thought, Ron his second. And Severus was his third. _  
  
You’re being fucking mental! One night doesn’t mean he’s going to fucking jump at your every fucking call._  
  
He took a deep breath, summoned his fiery dragon Patronus, and programmed it with a short and succinct message to Bill, and only hoped his brother would arrive quickly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Accidental and unwanted MPreg, Angst, Language, Christmas Chapter, fluff, more angst, a bit of 'ooooooh'.

_Christmas is totally bollocks when you’re single._  
  
That thought was what saw Charlie sitting alone in his house on Christmas Eve, with a thoroughly unexciting cup of tea by his side whilst he was dressed in pyjama bottoms and a ratty old Weasley jumper.  
 _  
Not much better when you’re pregnant, either._  
  
He had the wireless on but he wasn’t listening to it, choosing instead to stare moodily into the fire. Having tried his hardest to get excited for Christmas, and even put his own tree up and let his mother ply him with gingerbread men (not that they were so awful to accept), he was completely underwhelmed by the holiday.  
  
All he could think about was how that by this time next year, he would have a baby to enjoy the festive season with. Enjoyment wasn’t working for him that year and his spawn was still in his stomach, so Charlie had trouble summoning optimism.  
  
The letter next to him on the sofa helped somewhat, though, and he picked it up to read again. He had taken the blonde Australian up on his offer, and they had formed an odd little pen pal relationship, despite their ages, since his birthday. They never mentioned what had happened in the club, or even asked particularly personal questions, but Charlie was grateful all the same.  
 _  
‘I don’t understand you, Charlie –how can you prefer being up on a broom to sitting in a nice warm room and reading a book? I’m going to do that now when I’m finished here just so I know that one of us has some sense.’_  
  
Snorting Charlie dropped it again, and let his jaw fall into a lazy yawn. It was too early to go to bed without feeling like a sad pathetic excuse of a twenty-nine-year-old but he was sorely tempted. It was only half-past eight and he made a face realising that normally Christmas Eve would have seen him utterly shitfaced in a club sucking the lips off a nameless but absolutely delicious man.  
  
Looking around at the quiet house, it was most definitely a come-down.  
  
 _At least there’s no awkward Christmas morning walk of shame._  
  
That silver lining put a smile on his face, and he was just thinking about ignoring everything and heading for bed when there was a soft knock on his front door. Struggling to get up with his belly in the way, he groaned and grabbed his wand from the coffee table.  
 _  
Wimp._  
  
It was unusual, however, for anybody to knock on his door, even more so after dark. His brothers had taken to Flooing because they were too lazy to traverse the lanes from their parents’, and they were the only people who ever came to him at night.  
  
The knock came again and he stuffed the wand up his sleeve before reaching for the handle. The cold December air washed over him and he was surprised to find two things.  
  
One, it was snowing. Charlie loved snow, if only for the way he could terrorise his brothers with the threat of yellow snow. And secondly, the person who had knocked on his door he had not seen for a fortnight, since their somewhat dramatic parting. Charlie hadn’t heard a word from Severus since the night that they had last spoken, when the fuzzy ultimatum had been laid between them.  
  
“Severus?”  
“Charlie,” Severus’ cheeks were flushed with the cold and his eyes were brighter than Charlie could ever recall seeing him.  
  
There was something more casual about the way the man stood, his back wasn’t straight but slightly slumped, gloved hands were shoved loosely into his pockets, one knee was bent as he stood all the weight on the opposite hip.  
 _  
Fuck me, he looks gorgeous._  
  
Wondering if he’d been good enough for Father Christmas to bring his annual snog-fest straight to his door that year, Charlie folded his arms over his chest casually and leant against the doorframe.  
  
“Hey,” he gave Severus a grin. “Everything alright?”  
“Can I come in?”  
  
 _Oh._  
  
The brightness and flushed cheeks were explained as Severus spoke in detail, the words slurred and he looked uncomfortable.  
  
“Are you drunk?” Charlie raised an eyebrow.  
“No,” Severus denied.  
“Should I let you into my house?” Charlie asked dubiously, and he was surprised to find a worried survival instinct crackling into life down his spine and wrapping around his belly.  
  
He ignored it.  
  
“I’m not a… I don’t take after my father,” Severus muttered.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I’m not a vicious drunk, just a depressed one. Would you mind if I… toilet?”  
  
It was obvious that Severus wasn’t used to acting so casually, with anybody, but Charlie liked to see it. It brought back memories of the night their child had been conceived, when they had both been inebriated, making utter fools of themselves, and enjoying the other more for it.  
  
“Sure,” he smiled, and took a step back.   
  
Severus crossed the threshold and shivered.  
  
“Cold out,” Charlie closed the door. “Here, give me your coat and I’ll get you something to drink.”  
  
His eyes eager watched as the slender man slipped out of the thick coat he was wearing, bringing his body into view.   
_  
Did this man take a shag-me-now potion or something? Fuck. Or am I just really, really randy?_  
  
Charlie knew the answer to that as he hung up the coat by the door and brushed the snowflakes from the shoulders. Hearing Severus disappear into the bathroom and closing the door, he leant forward and sniffed at the coat, smelling the herby smell he remembered from the apothecary and the surprising waft of strong tea.  
  
 _And you’re smelling his coat why, exactly?_  
  
“Because I haven’t smelt another fucking man that wasn’t family in months,” Charlie muttered to himself as he headed into the kitchen.  
  
He had no idea what Severus wanted, but his Christmas Eve definitely looked to have taken an interesting turn. He had asked Severus not to return until he had an answer pertaining to their situation, but considering that the man was drunk, Charlie didn’t know how things were going to develop. He heard the toilet flush and turned on the tap, letting the water run until it was icy before cupping a glass beneath it.  
“Charlie?”  
“In the kitchen,” he called back, unable to keep the grin off his face.  
  
Quite why he was so happy at Severus being there, or even happier at seeing the man sozzled, Charlie had no idea, but when the dark head ducked into the kitchen, hair coming loose from the tie which held it, he didn’t care.  
  
“Here,” he handed the glass over. “If you wanted to keep drinking you’re out of luck, I haven’t got any because I’m not a big fan of torturing myself with what I can’t have.”  
  
Severus cocked him a wry grin and accepted the glass, lifting it to his lips and drinking. Charlie watched the throat move, his mind idly wondering how it would taste if he kissed it.  
 _  
Stoppit, you’re going to get hard if you keep this up…_  
  
His mind taunted him and Charlie was quite glad when Severus drained all the liquid and handed the glass back over, his movements overly careful.  
  
“Thank you,” Severus wiped his mouth delicately. “I’ll go, I just…”  
“No,” Charlie frowned. “You don’t have to leave. Why did you come, Severus?”  
  
There was a hard swallow and then Severus looked at the floor.  
“I wanted to see you,” he said finally, fists clenching at his sides.  
“Why?” Charlie wondered why all of his questions to the man seemed short, one worded and infantile.  
“To talk,” Severus turned and drifted into the living room and Charlie managed to levitate Christian’s letter off the sofa and safely to the mantelpiece without notice. “You have a Christmas tree.”  
“Yeah,” Charlie tucked his wand away and walked up to it, batting one of the baubles with his finger. “Thought I’d at least pretend to have some festive spirit.”  
“I didn’t bother,” Severus fell down on the sofa, his eyes on the fire. “I never do.”  
“My family only would have jumped on me,” Charlie shrugged. “I doubt they’d approve if they knew of my usual Christmas Eve ritual of finding the hottest shag I can and enjoying every second of it.”  
  
Severus fixed him with a stare then, before the man asked, “Is that what I was that night?”  
  
 _No, you were the first person interested in months. But, now you’re the sexiest thing I’ve seen in years, that count?_  
  
“Yep,” Charlie did his best to blush and look awkward.  
“God, you’ve gotten big.”  
  
The blush became real then and something hurt inside his chest. His hand flew to his belly and he swallowed.  
  
“Sorry, that was… Sorry,” Severus backtracked.  
“It’s true,” Charlie shrugged. “It’s getting bigger. Erm… I don’t know if you want to… I’ve had a scan since we last spoke. Would you like to see the picture?”  
  
Severus’ face drained of blood, but the dark hair flopped as he nodded. Charlie reached behind the box containing Floo Powder and pulled out a cardboard file, handing it over before sitting on the sofa.  
  
He watched as the man opened it, looked at the magical scan photograph, and closed it again. “And he’s alright?”  
“Perfect apparently,” Charlie replied. “They were nervous after what happened in November, but seems fine.”  
“Fuck.”  
  
Severus leant back then, his hand shaking as it rose up to cover his face, clearly upset.  
  
“I felt the same way,” Charlie offered by means of support. “I don’t look at it.”  
“It’s… fine, I just didn’t…”  
  
It was odd to see the man who usually spoke with the grace of having swallowed an entire dictionary stumble and stutter. The night they had slept together had been nothing like this, and Charlie was suddenly glad he had let the man in, rather than sending him out into the dark lanes around the house or even apparating. What Severus had told him about his memory blanks began to prey on his mind.  
  
“Whoa,” Charlie immediately grabbed at his belly, where the strongest kick he’d ever felt was repeated in short succession. “Merlin’s balls this baby is going to kick out of me if it keeps up.”  
“It’s moving?” Severus looked at him from between his fingers.  
“Yeah,” Charlie nodded. “He has for a while.”  
  
Charlie said nothing as tentatively Severus’ fingers came away from his face and rested over the top of his jumper. He kept his eyes on Severus’ face and watched as, like a house of bricks might fall under the force of an explosion, the man’s expression crumpled to something close to desolation.  
  
“Severus?” he whispered. “Are you alright?”  
“No,” the answer was cracked and hoarse.  
“I don’t know if you…” Charlie reached out and picked up the man’s hand, and without saying anything further slid it up beneath his jumper. He held back his unmanly hiss at the coolness of Severus’ skin and waited.  
  
It was the first time he had let anybody other than the Healers touch his bump bare, and it sent shivers running up and down his spine, which doubled as another flutter-kick came. A second coolness pressed into his skin and he half-smiled, finding the man’s interest fascinating.  
  
But then the dark head bowed, eyes closed, and Charlie was horrified to see tears gliding down the pale face. He had no idea what to do; he had the usual Weasley Male Answer To Tears inbuilt into his system, which was to hug until you couldn’t hug any more. And then, you made tea. However, Severus Snape did not seem like the kind of man that would appreciate it, and Charlie immediately fell out of his comfort zone with a hard thud. It was hard enough dealing with his _own_ pregnancy induced tears, let alone anybody else’s.  
  
“I don’t know how to be what you need me to be.”  
  
The words were a whisper but Charlie caught them all the same. Severus’ head was still bowed, the hair spilling out of his band clinging to his wettening cheeks. Charlie didn’t want to find it attractive –he thought he had to be perverse to find it so- but beauty personified was in front of him thanks to the raw emotion splattered over the pale face.  
  
“So… does that mean that you…” Charlie shifted further down on the cushion so that his belly pressed harder into Severus’ hands and he could get a better look at the upset face.  
“How can I not?” Severus opened his eyes then, which were red-rimmed and sparkling with tears. “But I cannot be… I don’t know how to be… the person that you need.”  
“A father?” Charlie’s fingers were itching to reach up and brush the soggy hair out of Severus’ eyes.  
“A lover,” dark eyes fell onto Charlie’s stomach. “I know how ridiculous that sounds –I am more scared of being affectionate with a man than I am to look after his child.”  
  
“It’s alright,” Charlie said softly, keeping his voice even, and then, with the slowest movement he could manage, he lifted his hand, removed the damp hair with his finger, and then laid his hand on the side of Severus’ narrow face. “We can figure this all out together, Severus… if you want to make a go of it.”  
“But that’s just…” Charlie felt the most delicate of squeezes to his bump. “This won’t go away, if nothing else between us survives and I… this is my _son_ in here. I can’t bear the thought of… losing that.”  
  
Charlie wanted to say that he understood, but as of yet he felt no attachment to the baby in his stomach. It had been months. He wasn’t foolish enough, or scared enough to hope, that one would spring out of thin air overnight. Severus had before spoken of his complete understanding of Charlie’s reluctance. But it seemed, in the two weeks since they had last talked, something had changed in the dark haired man.  
  
“Do you still… do you still understand why I can’t be happy about this?” he finally asked, letting the uncertainty crack his voice. His back ached in his slumped position but he held it.  
  
Severus sniffed slightly, before another two tears tracked down his cheeks. “I will never lose my understanding, Charlie, I promise you that.”  
“Okay,” Charlie stroked slightly with his thumb, wondering if Severus minded his hand being there. “Then we can figure this all out, Severus. Slowly, and together. We still have a couple of months, enough time to try and get to know one another…”  
“And if you don’t want to know me?” Severus’ lips curled into a scowl.  
  
“I wanted to sleep with you,” Charlie breathed. “There was an attraction there. There’s an attraction _now_ , Severus. And you’ve been… talking with you last time really made me happy.”  
  
The man looked confused at that notion and Charlie wondered just how socially deprived the father of his child was.  
  
“I haven’t slept properly in a fortnight,” Severus closed his eyes and muttered.  
  
Charlie’s hand followed the face down and didn’t complain when the forehead rested on his bump. He was so content to have Severus touch him he couldn’t care less what he did at that moment. A kick man them both jump and Severus sat upright, face tearstained and pale. One thin hand dragged over his skin, drying it, and he sniffed hard.  
  
“I’ll leave now,” he nodded, and got to his feet, but Charlie was beyond being able to part with the man.  
  
Not after watching him cry, not after watching spill half of his heart onto the floor.  
  
“No,” he shook his head and struggled to his feet. “No, you’re staying here tonight.”  
“Weasley, that’s not necessary-”  
“It is,” Charlie informed him. “And Severus, never call me Weasley again. I’m not your pupil, you’re not my teacher. Have some fucking respect and call me by my given name.”  
  
Onyx eyes widened at the rebuke, which even Charlie was fairly surprised at, and then faint tinges of colour appeared over the defined cheekbones.  
  
“Sorry.”  
“It’s nothing,” Charlie assured him, and then with warm hands, guided Severus to sitting on the sofa.  
  
Throwing caution to the wind, he reached behind Severus’ head, hand brushing the silky black hair, and gently tugged the band so that it all fell loose. There came a slight groan when he carded his fingers through the top and wondered just how drunk Severus was and what, exactly, the reserved man would let him get away with.  
  
“How much did you have to drink?” He grinned, crouching down as much as he could, looking up into Severus’ face as his fingers moved for the man’s boots.  
“Nearly a whole bottle of whiskey,” Severus tinged green as he spoke.  
“Ouch,” Charlie grimaced. “Well, if I can’t go out on a bender I’m glad you did it for me. Sobering solution?”  
  
Severus nodded and dropped his head back, his eyes closed. Having removed the dragonhide boots, Charlie rose awkwardly to standing and headed to the healing kit in his bathroom, stifling another yawn as he went. He didn’t know why but just having Severus in his house made him feel more at ease. Even though he was at that moment drunken Charlie couldn’t be worried.  
  
He even smiled as he walked back into the living room, only to find that Severus had slumped sideways, clearly asleep.  
  
 _Now if only I had a camera…_ Charlie’s ‘Fred and George’ side kicked in as he set the little vial down on the coffee table –it would still work if Severus took it in the morning. The bedroom suddenly seemed too far away, and he plopped back down on the sofa to watch Severus breathing. Fascinated with the gentle rise and fall of his chest, Charlie got himself comfortable. The hand which reached out to gently stroke the raven hair couldn’t be helped, he justified, on account of the fact it was blowing irritatingly in the stream from Severus’ nose. And when the hand settled on the sallow cheek, that couldn’t be helped either.  
 _  
Because you want to touch him._  
  
Charlie held his breath as Severus suddenly moved, wriggling further up the sofa and, in a move which made Charlie’s heart begin to thud, worked his head onto waiting thighs, and turned his face towards the bump.  
  
Realising that he was now completely stuck, Charlie chewed into his lip and looked at the clock. He was so tired, he wanted his nice, soft bed and the thick duvet, but Severus looked so peaceful, his nose ever-so-slightly brushing against his bump, that he didn’t dare move. Instead he summoned the duvet from the bedroom and layered it over Severus’ form, and then he grabbed the thick throw from the back of the sofa and awkwardly wrapped it around himself, best he could.  
  
“Accio,” he muttered at the table near the door, which held a notepad and a pencil.  
  
It felt so very odd to sit there with one hand stroking the hair of a man he barely knew, and yet had conceived a child with. He rested the pad on the arm of the chair and quickly jotted down brief notes about their conversation. If Severus awoke in the night and his memory had lapsed, Charlie didn’t want to have to calm him down when he was half asleep. The notes would catch Severus up on everything they’d discussed.  
  
 _And everything we didn’t resolve.  
_  
Charlie sent the pad to the coffee table, and levitated the vial of sobering solution on top of it, and then extinguished all of the lights in the room. The only source then came from the fairies on the Christmas tree, nearly all of whom lay down to peacefully sleep when they saw the rest of the room dim. With one last glance down at the lost man in his lap, Charlie closed his eyes and did the same.  
  
***  
Cold air wafted over him and Charlie cracked his eyes open, wondering where the temperature change had come from. Suddenly everything ached and he realised he had been sleeping sitting up.  
  
“Charlie?” the voice was low, husky, and he turned towards it. Severus blinked at him sleepily in the dark of the room with a questioning face.  
“You fell’sleep,” Charlie shifted, grateful that he could move his legs and his freezing feet.  
“Why didn’t you wake me?”  
“You looked… peaceful,” Charlie shrugged. “What time is it?”   
“Early,” Severus reached up and in a moment of completely vulnerability, Charlie was treated to the sight of him rubbing his fingers blearily over one eye. “Around five.”  
“Merry Christmas,” Charlie yawned, and pulled the blanket closer around himself.  
  
He wanted to open his eyes, to talk to Severus some more, but he was too tired. As he was falling asleep he felt a warmth move into the side of his body, and then a definite hand beneath his jumper. Then, as though they loved each other, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, a kiss was pressed into his hair as his head was guided into a surprisingly comfortable shoulder.  
  
***  
When he surfaced next, daylight was penetrating the windows and his eyes ached at the intrusion. He was unbelievably warm; he never wanted to leave the toasty cocoon that he had apparently made for himself in the night. But when his nostrils caught the scent of herbs and tea, he realised the heat was not just trapped in the throw; it was coming from the man whose arms were wrapped around him, whose heart he could feel thumping rhythmically next to his ear.  
  
“Sevus?”  
“Mm?”  
“Jus’ checkin’,” he yawned with a little laugh, and then shifted, trying to straighten his spine.  
  
He noticed that the sobering solution had been drunk, and the notepad moved.  
  
“You wrote those for me,” Severus commented.  
“Yeah I… you fell asleep, you were really drunk, and I didn’t think you waking up in the middle of the night and freaking out would do either of us any favours,” Charlie dragged a hand back through his hair. “Did you need it?”  
“No,” Severus shook his head softly, resting his hand in his chin as his elbow prodded into one thin thigh.  
  
“Have you got a headache?” Charlie teased.  
“No,” Severus answered, with a smug smirk curling up his lips, and then he yawned. “Charlie, I can only apologise –Merlin knows what possessed me to arrive here like I did last night.”  
“It was… fine,” Charlie assured him with a smile. “More than fine, if I’m honest.”  
  
Severus fixed him with the kind of gaze which melted bones and Charlie had to look away, making himself rise from the sofa. Several of his joints crunched from their stiff sleep and he elongated his spine with a hiss of pain. His hand, as it usually did, ran down to cup his belly. That had been habit before his pregnancy, but the rounded bump only accentuated the movement, and when he glanced back to Severus, the man’s eyes were hooked, watching the slow morning routine with hunger.  
  
“I am sorry that you spent an uncomfortable night,” Severus gestured to the sofa. “You should have left me and gone to bed.”  
“No,” Charlie said softly. “I don’t abandon when in danger.”  
“Chivalrous to the extreme,” Severus looked at him.  
“Or just…”  
 _  
Wanting to protect you? Happy to hold you? Wanting you to stay with your head next to my bump because I liked it there?_  
  
“Fuck it!” Charlie hissed suddenly, catching sight of the clock, and seeing that it was eleven. His need for sleep never failed to amaze him. “I’m meant to be at mum’s now.”  
“Oh,” Severus immediately rose from the sofa, his eyes scanning the floor for his boots. “Then I will take my leave and let you get on.”  
  
Charlie didn’t know what brought the words to the tip of his tongue, even less what made him speak them, but when he did it was with an honest tone which he hoped Severus heeded. “What are your plans for the day, Severus?”  
“Nothing,” Severus had one foot into a boot and was looking for the other.  
“I was just thinking that…well… maybe you’d like to spend Christmas with me?”  
  
Severus looked up at him sharply, sleep tousled hair hanging around his face like a protective curtain. The onyx eyes were suddenly unreadable. “Aren’t you spending the day with your family?”  
“Yeah but…”  
  
Charlie didn’t want to have to say it, and hoped that Severus wouldn’t make him. To drive his message home he settled one hand over his belly and looked pointedly from it to Severus.  
“Won’t your family mind?”  
“Nope,” Charlie shrugged. “Mum loves having the house full at Christmas. It kind of detracts from the fact that she’s missing one.”  
  
Severus said nothing but nodded, reaching down for his other boot.  
  
“And they all know about… what I am to you?”  
“After the hospital there was no way they couldn’t, really, was there?” Charlie flushed and looked away. “They know. Come.”  
“I don’t know, Charlie, it’s been a long time-”  
“What else will you do all day if you don’t come with me?” Charlie turned on the honey to his tone and grinned impishly. “Drink another bottle of whiskey? Sit on your own and think about everything until you go mad?”  
  
He knew he had struck gold when Severus sighed and reached up to gather his hair together in his hands. “All of that and more.”  
“Come to mum and dad’s then,” Charlie smiled. “You don’t have to stay all day, and dinner’s always great, and I’ll protect you.”  
“Oh really?” Severus arched a disbelieving eyebrow.  
“Nobody’d dare mess with me,” Charlie turned for the bathroom. “You don’t upset the pregnant unstable bloke.”  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Severus called after him.  
  
***  
“Is there anything I shouldn’t mention?” Severus asked him quickly, as they waited for someone to open the door.  
“Fred, the war, we still call Voldemort You-Know-Who and don’t ask Percy about his work unless you want to die of boredom. Got it?”  
“Yes.”  
“Brilliant, hey Mum!”  
  
The door swung inward and Charlie grinned, springing forward and giving her a quick hug. “Mum, Severus is going to join us for dinner today. Is that a problem?”  
  
If his mother noticed the name he had said, she didn’t let on, she merely straightened her apron and said, “More the merrier, dears, now shut the door, you’re letting all the heat out.”  
  
Charlie gave Severus a wink and sauntered in, dropping his bag of Christmas presents near the table. “Sorry we’re late.”  
“Everybody’s here,” she waved distractedly at the living room, stirring something on the hob. “Oh, and,” she grabbed for him and dragged him closer. “George brought a girlfriend.”  
“What?” Charlie gawped at her.  
“Angelina. Fred’s old girlfriend,” Molly made a worried face.  
“Mum, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing,” Charlie shrugged out of his jacket, and held his hand out for Severus’.  
“Well if he doesn’t he’s only going to break his heart all over again,” she sniffed, and turned away, which Charlie took as his cue to usher Severus from the room.  
  
“Okay, and don’t mention girlfriends,” he whispered in the man’s ear. “Apparently George is dating Fred’s girlfriend.”  
“That means nothing to me,” Severus muttered back. “I don’t remember my students’ love lives.”  
“Shame,” Charlie chucked the coats on the pegs in the hall. “Mine was rather lucrative, you would have enjoyed it. Right, ready?”  
“For what?” Severus frowned.  
  
“Merry Christmas!” Charlie walked into the living room, finding it crammed full, and grinned. “I brought a visitor with me. Be nice to him or I’ll yell at you. And cry.”  
“Bastard,” Severus hissed under his breath.  
“Trust me, easier to get it out of the way,” Charlie leant close and whispered the words in his ear. “And none of them will dare attack like this.”  
  
“Seriously, you brought the man that cut off my ear to Christmas lunch?” George snorted.  
“And who did you bring?” Charlie raised an eyebrow and reached out to shake the tall black girl’s hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”  
“Angelina,” she said shyly, her eyes lingering on his stomach which he could no longer easily hide.  
“This family is full of weird,” Charlie warned her. “But then being with him you’re probably used to that.”  
“Oi,” George threw a peanut at his head which Charlie snatched from the air with seeker reflexes.  
“I would make a comment about your mother teaching you manners, but it doesn’t really work when we have the same mother, does it?”  
  
“Severus,” Harry reached out and shook the man’s hand with a small smile on his face. “I’ve not seen you in a while.”  
  
Charlie watched the man return the handshake and wondered how long it would be before he bolted.  
  
“Charlieeeeee,” his mother’s voice rang out from behind him and he moaned.   
“Excuse me, Severus; apparently I’m the only son here at the minute.”  
  
He ducked through to the kitchen and found his mother assembling a plate of mince pies.  
  
“Ooh, food,” he immediately reached out and received a stinging slap over the back of his hand.  
“Bad Charlie,” she smiled at him. “So, Severus?”  
“What about him?” Charlie folded his arms over his chest.  
“Anything I should know?”  
“Probably, but I don’t know it yet either and I really think I should, don’t you?”  
  
She laughed and shook her head, handing over a mince pie. “Go and rescue him from the masses. Before he runs away.”  
  
Charlie rolled his eyes and walked back to the living room, seeing Severus still in conversation with Harry. Looking around the faces, he grinned when Bill gave him a smirk and flicked his blue eyes to Severus.  
  
“Shut up,” he mouthed. “Hey,” he frowned. “Where’s Ron?”  
  
The one thing he had been looking forward to was that he and Ron might finally be able to talk to one another on Christmas Day, where they couldn’t escape one another.  
  
“He… uh. He said that he wanted you to have a good Christmas,” Harry said uncomfortably. “So he didn’t come. He’s at home.”  
“What?” Charlie heard the disappointment in his own voice. “For fuck’s sake, this is mental!”  
“He’s only trying to make you happy,” Harry sounded like he was rehearsing from a script.  
  
“Stupid git,” Charlie hissed. “I’ll be back in a minute.”  
“Where are you going?” Severus followed him as he headed into the hallway, and one cool hand clamped around his upper arm.  
“I’m going to go and speak to Ron,” Charlie growled.   
“I’m coming with you,” Severus looked at him as though he were speaking the obvious.  
“Why?”  
“You are _not_ leaving me here,” Severus’ voice got so low his vocal chords must have grated, and Charlie shivered, his cock giving an interested twitch in his underwear.  
“No, guess I’m not,” he grinned sheepishly.  
  
“Are you going to make up with Ron?” Molly asked him as they stepped into the kitchen.  
“Yes,” Charlie grabbed some Floo powder and tossed it into the flames. “I can’t apparate, Severus,” he imparted the address and whisked away.  
  
Glad the sickness of his pregnancy had waned; Charlie closed his eyes to the motions of Floo travelling, and was glad when he landed in the grate he hadn’t seen in nearly a month. Kicking off the soot from his boots he waited for Severus, who arrived quickly.  
  
Charlie opened his mouth to shout out for his brother but a voice stopped him in his tracks.  
  
“Shut up, you absolute cockhead!”  
  
Charlie’s mouth fell open; that voice wasn’t Ron’s, and it certainly wasn’t Hermione’s, because it was male. Severus shot him a confused look.  
  
“I _told_ you cooking naked was a fail,” Ron spoke then, his voice fifty times lighter than the last time Charlie had heard it.  
“Weasley, I’ve never cooked in my life,” the man spoke.  
“I know,” Ron was smiling, beaming, even, Charlie could hear it through his tone, “That’s why when you’ve finished murdering that already dead chicken, we’re going to go and have lunch somewhere nice…”  
  
There was mumbling then and a breathy groan. Charlie knew his face was passing through different stages of wonder, then anger, then confusion, and then worry.  
 _  
Where on earth is Hermione? And who the fuck is that?_  
  
“Whoever would have thought you were hiding such a delicious backside beneath those Auror robes, Weasley?” the unnamed voice drawled. “I shall make it my endeavour to personally memorise it.”  
“Well, forget the chicken, and then we can go to the bedroom, and you can… uh…”  
“You’re blushing.”  
“Of course I’m fucking blushing! Up until three weeks ago I was straight,” Ron huffed.  
  
 _What?!_  
  
Charlie had had enough of waiting; he threw Severus a look and shouted out, “Ron?”  
  
There was a clunk from the kitchen, muttered swearing, and then feet in the hall. Ron appeared round the doorframe wrapped in a dressing gown with tousled hair and reddened lips. He looked the perfect image of debauchery as his alabaster freckled skin was mottled by the multi-coloured muggle fairy lights adorning the Christmas tree.  
  
“Char?” Ron gaped at him.  
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Where’s Hermione?”  
  
Ron swallowed and looked down at the floor, picking at his thumbnail. “There’s… some stuff’s happened, Char.”  
“You took up with a bloke?” Charlie gasped.  
“That’s right, because it _would_ be me that caused the problem, wouldn’t it?” Ron’s lips curled into an uncharacteristic sneer. “I’m the one that _must_ have fucked up my relationship with her.”  
  
“Ron? Who is it?” the voice called, and then a platinum blonde head poked around the doorframe.  
  
Charlie heard a huge intake of sucking breath, and then a choke, and Severus immediately burst out, “Draco?!”  
“Severus,” Draco answered him cordially and stepped fully into the room, also dressed, and to Charlie’s astonishment put an arm around Ron’s waist.  
“Does your father know about this?” Severus asked in a strained voice. “You’re fucking a Weasley now?”  
“So are you from what I’ve heard,” Draco retorted with a pointed look at Charlie’s belly.   
“And what would be wrong with that if he was?” Charlie turned his own glare on Severus, whose jaws snapped shut loudly. “Ron, mate, tell me what’s happened? I’m sorry for…”  
  
“Hermione,” Ron said finally, looking with a dead stare at the fireplace. “I found out she’d been seeing someone from her department in the Ministry.”  
“When?” Charlie gasped.  
“Sort of mid-November,” Ron chewed into his lip. “And when I confronted her about it she lied. We split up the day after Bill’s birthday.”  
“Oh, Godric’s arse, Ron, I’m so sorry,” Charlie immediately stepped forward with his arms raised. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”  
  
Nothing relieved him more than when Ron grabbed him tight and held him. Charlie swept a hand up and down his spine, comforting like he used to do when Ron was a child, and whispered, “I’m sorry. For everything.”  
“It’s alright,” there was a shake to Ron’s tone he hated. “But you…”  
“I’m sorry,” Charlie repeated.   
“Why is Snape in my living room?” Ron asked in a bemused voice.  
“Uh, it’s complicated,” Charlie muttered back, and finally let Ron go.  
  
“They hug a lot, have you noticed that?” Draco said loudly to Severus. “He seems to have this ridiculous obsession with overt affection.”  
“I had noticed,” Severus nodded quietly. “Draco, I was being serious about your father… you know how he is relying on you to further the Malfoy bloodline.”  
“Sore topic,” Ron made a slicing motion across his throat and a grimace. “Not one for Christmas day at any rate.”  
  
“How on earth did this… you’re… fucking straight as a lamp post!” Charlie exhaled frustratedly. “Never once did you ever give me any inclination that you might be gay?!”  
“I’m not gay,” Ron blushed. “I think I’m bi.”  
“Greedy sod,” Charlie winked. “But, if it works for you… who knows?”   
“Well… don’t be mad, but… everyone sort of knows. On our side, anyway. I asked them... because you and me weren't... I didn't want you to feel like I was guilting you into talking to me. We’ll be leaving the country when old Lucius gets wind,” Ron shot a surreptitious look at Draco. “And anyway it’s not… serious, yet.”  
“Funny, in my day,” Charlie looked reminiscently up at the ceiling, desperately trying to ignore the fact that his entire family had kept a secret as large as that from him. “Cooking naked with a bloke tended to mean it was serious.”  
“The man remaining past the first three waking moments meant serious for me,” Severus threw in his own little jibe and both of the younger men reddened.  
  
“You heard the cooking thing, then?” Ron scrunched up his face.  
“Yup,” Charlie grinned. “And you’re not going out for lunch.”  
“I’m not eating that bollocks,” Ron snorted.  
“You’re coming back home.”  
  
Ron looked at Draco. Draco looked at Severus.  
  
“Two Slytherins under a Gryffindor roof,” Charlie snorted. “Grandad Septimus’ll be rolling in his grave, Ron. Go and put some fucking clothes on. Unless you’re planning to flash everyone over the table?”  
“I’d enjoy the view,” Draco said pointedly, and then left the room, smirking.  
“Char, are you alright with this?” Ron whispered urgently.  
“What? Are you mad?” Charlie frowned.   
“I need your… approval. Been driving me mad.”  
“You don’t need my approval, Ron; you’re twenty-two in March!”  
“I need it,” Ron said softly. “Because you’re you. And you mean…”  
“As long as you’re being careful, don’t hurt yourself.”  
“I’ll try.”  
“Promise?”  
“If you do the same,” Ron said evenly.  
  
He didn’t have to look at Severus to indicate that he was talking about him.  
  
“You know me,” Charlie shrugged. “I get burned I deal with it.”  
“And when you get pregnant you whinge about it,” Ron grinned, and then hurried from the room, leaving the pair of them alone together.  
  
“This is turning out to be one of the oddest Christmases ever,” Charlie rubbed his hands over his face.  
  
“He thinks I’ll hurt you,” Severus said quietly, looking after Ron into the corridor.  
“I implied the same about Draco,” Charlie sighed. “It’s a protection thing. We’re… close.”  
  
It was the only answer he could think of to explain it.  
  
“Really close.”  
“Okay,” Severus said simply, and turned away. “I can’t believe that about Granger.”  
“Neither can I,” Charlie growled. “What a bitch.”  
  
Severus turned to him with one raised eyebrow, judging his harsh comment.  
  
“What?” Charlie shrugged. “She’s just hurt my little brother, what am I meant to do, sit there and wish her well with the new love of her life? Fuck right off.”  
“My thoughts exactly,” Draco re-entered the room, dressed smartly in muggle clothing. “I don’t think we’ve properly met, have we?”  
  
He extended one hand out for Charlie to shake.  
  
***  
Charlie wasn’t sure he’d ever had a Christmas as surreal as the one that he had lived out that day.  
  
 _How a few years can do wonders for sour relationships._  
  
Although he was still shocked to find that Ron was apparently dating the Malfoy heir, he couldn’t stop watching the pair of them. Severus had also gravitated to Draco’s side and looked much happier with somebody to actually speak to. Charlie could tell in the faces of a few –George, their father, even Harry to some extent, that they didn’t trust the two men currently sitting by the fire discussing Draco’s career, but he had to wonder if his own expression, and Ron’s too, made up for it. Certainly neither of them looked uncomfortable anymore, but then it was seven in the evening and everyone was rather tipsy.  
  
 _Everyone but me._  
  
Gloomy at that thought, Charlie looked around to try and find someone else to observe, and wasn’t surprised when his eyes fell on Ron, who was sitting on the floor by the Christmas tree, knees bent up in front of him as he stared into the branches. His path clear, Charlie moved to sit next to him and nudged him on the shoulder.  
  
“Mighy fine interesting tree?” he probed with a small grin.  
“What?” Ron came back to his senses, and shook his head slightly. “Sorry, Char, miles away.”  
“Bet I know where,” Charlie heaved a sigh, and threw his arm around Ron’s shoulders. “How are you holding up?”  
“Alright mostly,” Ron shrugged. “I’m hurt but I… he helps,” blue eyes landed on the platinum blonde.  
“How did you land him then?” Charlie whispered. “I’ve been dying to know all day.”  
Ron snorted. “As soon as it became knowledge what had happened between me and…”  
“We’ll think up a suitably bitchy name soon, don’t you worry,” Charlie winked.  
“Well… I was in work in the training room one day and bent over, someone touched my arse and it was him. Trust me, I nearly died.”  
“So how did we jump from straight to bi?”  
  
Ron flushed a little then, and a devilish grin curled up his lips. “By jumping a Malfoy.”  
“Oh, gods, I love you,” Charlie broke into sniggers and properly laughed.  
  
“Oh, my boys!” their mother’s voice came out of nowhere. “It’s so good to see you together again, and you laughing,” she gave an ungentle tug to Charlie’s hair before wiping her eyes. “Right, who wants turkey sandwiches?”  
  
The resulting din left Ron and Charlie to their own devices as the room cleared out a little, and they sat comfortably back.  
  
“Sorry,” Charlie said suddenly, realising that his arm was still around Ron’s shoulders. “Guess now I have to remember this sort of thing, don’t I?”  
“Don’t you dare take that off,” Ron muttered. “A fucking month and nothing’s felt right until now.”  
  
Charlie fell silent then, wondering what he could say to such an admission of comfort, and was glad when Draco rose.  
  
“Ron, I have to go,” the blonde looked down at them.  
“Right, yeah, sorry your family, I forgot,” Ron pushed up off the floor and brushed down the seat of his jeans. “I’ll walk you out.”  
  
It was so odd to see Ron’s awkwardness as he stood and grabbed Draco’s hand. Charlie remembered letters full of angry words about the blonde, how he never stopped insulting Ron, and their family, and then also a jubilant recollection of smacking him in the face during the final battle.  
  
“It was nice meeting you,” Draco said politely, and Charlie had to give Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy something –their son was impeccably mannered, when he cared who he was speaking to.  
  
If Ron was awkward, Draco was hyper-tense, his eyes watching everything and everyone, his own distrust written over his perfect face. But that wasn’t without warrant, Charlie decided, with the slight edginess of their dad, George and Harry.  
  
“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other,” Charlie finally winked. “We’re a bit like glue me and him.”  
  
He heard Ron muttering to Draco as they left the living room, and when Charlie looked around he realised that he and Severus were the only ones left in it. He shot the man a smile and yawned.  
“Are you alright?”  
  
The protective tone in Severus’ voice staggered Charlie, and he found himself unable to answer immediately. He was thrown back to watching Bill with Fleur during her pregnancy, the way he would unfailingly think of her first and always check that she was well.  
  
 _Personally I would have clobbered him but that’s just me._  
  
“I’m fine,” Charlie grinned. “Had a good day.”  
“You missed your brother,” Severus commented, looking down at his thighs.  
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Charlie shook his head. “Do you have any brothers or sisters, Severus?”  
“No.”  
“Then this must be really fucking weird for you,” Charlie rolled onto his knees and got up that way, because it was easier than fighting against his bump, and moved to sit next to Severus on the sofa.  
  
Even though they had shared space and body heat the night before, Charlie was still surprised when Severus didn’t scoot away, it left them closer together than he had expected to sit. Severus leant back in the chair and turned to look at him.  
  
“Never thought I’d say this,” Severus said quietly. “But your family are extremely welcoming people.”  
“Mm,” Charlie agreed. “I’m glad you think so, Severus, because if you want to be in on this,” he placed his hand on his belly. “Then this lot are sadly part and parcel.”  
“You need to explain to them about my memory issues.”  
“Why do I need to do anything?” Charlie frowned. “They’re your issues, Severus.”  
“But I don’t know these people.”  
“So, and I barely know you, and yet, we’re talking just fine.”  
  
Severus looked away without saying anything else and Charlie wondered if he had finally pushed too far. It can’t have been easy to sit in a room full of boisterous and intimidating people he didn’t know, and Charlie was grateful.   
_  
Expecting too much, perhaps?_  
  
“Do you… are your parents still alive, Severus?” he asked then, curious to find out just who the man would have spent the day with had he not been coaxed into attending the Weasley Christmas festivities.  
“No,” the man answered simply. “My father died when I was sixteen and my mother shortly after the first war. I’ve been alone for a long time.”  
  
Perhaps it was his need for displays of overt affection, as Draco had called them, but Charlie couldn’t resist reaching out and picking up the slender hand which rested in the small gap between them on the sofa. He laced his thicker fingers through the thinner ones, completely engulfing the hand with his warmth. With a gentle squeeze, he looked away.  
  
“I can understand why that information bothers you, having the family that you do,” Severus whispered. “But my own was far different. This is the first Christmas I’ve ever experienced with people, at home, where people were genuinely smiling, for example.”  
“You’re going to make me cry,” Charlie growled. “And Severus, I don’t like crying –I’m a fucking dragon keeper. Remember what I said about upsetting the pregnant unstable bloke?”  
  
With eyebrows raised he demanded a response, and when Severus finally gave him one in the form of small smirk, he relaxed.  
  
“I should probably also take my leave,” Severus sighed then. “There are things I should attend to at home.”  
“Sure,” Charlie released his hand. “But when you go I go. To get away from their questions mainly.”  
  
Severus offered him a hand to pull him out of the squishy sofa, which Charlie took only marginally muttering on the inside.   
  
“Oh look,” he made a face. “Mistletoe.”  
  
Severus took a pointed step away with a glare in his eyes and Charlie outwardly laughed and inwardly made a growl of disappointment.  
  
 _So you’ll kiss my hair and not my lips? Fussy._  
  
“Mum,” he pulled his coat off the hook in the hallway. “We’re going to head off now. I’m feeling a bit tired.”  
“Okay,” she didn’t protest and gripped him in a hug. “You be careful.”  
“I will be,” he rolled his eyes.  
“I’ll walk you back to your house,” Severus offered.  
“That’d be wonderful,” Molly answered before Charlie could get words out, and then pushed past him to throw her arms around the dark-haired man.  
  
The entire kitchen watching, Severus took it well and didn’t try to move.  
  
“I’m so pleased that you and Charlie are-”  
“Mum, shut up,” Charlie opened the door. “Lovely Christmas lunch though, thank you,” he shoved Severus out into the yard and made a face at his mother, who just laughed. “Ron?”  
“What?”  
“I want to see you in my house at ten, no arguments,” Charlie jabbed a finger at him.  
“Oh shit,” Ron paled. “You’re not going to give me a sex-”  
“Yes I fucking am,” Charlie winked with a smirk. “Night night everyone!”  
  
Closing the door to laughter and catcalls at Ron, Charlie stepped into the darkness and looked around for Severus.  
  
“That was rather cruel, don’t you think?” the man fell into step with him.  
“Naaah,” Charlie shrugged. “He’ll have been expecting it. Someone sure as hell needs to give him one and being the only gay in the family, it falls to me.”  
“I suppose that is the purpose of having a little brother, to embarrass them.”  
“And I have four,” Charlie smiled. “Three,” he corrected, face dropping.  
“Your mother is very…”  
“Sorry about that,” Charlie made a face. “She doesn’t understand the concept of personal space a lot of the time.”  
“It was nothing,” Severus shrugged. “It’s freezing. Are you warm enough?”  
  
Again the protection rolled over him and Charlie didn’t know whether he liked it or not. They turned onto the lane and were plunged into the instant darkness.  
  
“This is dangerous,” Severus muttered. “You do this by yourself often?”  
“Severus, I worked in a dragon-infested forest,” Charlie protested. “I can look after myself.”  
  
His companion didn’t say anything, they just walked in silence through the December night and snowfall until Charlie felt fingers working into his. With a smile he looked away until his house came into view, and he immediately shot lighting spells ahead.  
  
“Well, I suppose this is me, then,” he kicked aside a lump of ice which had formed on the steps.  
“I suppose it is,” Severus’ voice seemed far away.  
“Do you want to come in again?”  
“No, I really do have to get back.”  
“Okay.”  
  
They looked at one another in the eerie glow pooling out from the minimal glass in the front door of the house.  
  
“Thank you for coming today, it was really… nice, having you there. And you kept Draco company so…”  
“When his father finds out…” Severus shook his head and there was very real fear in his eyes. “And, I’m not being rude… but… because it’s Ron, that will up the amount of venom he spews.”  
“We’re all big boys now,” Charlie shrugged. “We can sort this out ourselves. Ron pays his own rent and he’s dependent on nobody. You know he built me this,” he waved a hand at the house. “So… if the worst comes to it, Draco can just move in with him. If that’s what they want. Still very… nervous around each other, I think.”  
“I didn’t even know my own godson was gay,” Severus whispered.  
“I didn’t know my brother was either,” Charlie made a face. “Or see that his girlfriend was cheating on him. We’ve both had a fail today.”  
  
“Why do you always know the right thing to say?” Severus looked up then. “You have this remarkably calming quality, Charlie that just… tears me apart.”  
“Is that a… good thing?”  
“I’m not sure.”  
  
Charlie knew what he wanted to do, knew what his fingers wanted to do. They wanted to reach forward, sink into the black hair and pull Severus’ face to him. And then he wanted to kiss the cold lips into warmth, have Severus touch his body.  
  
“For god’s sake,” the man finally muttered, took a step forward, and wrapped his arms around Charlie’s waist.  
  
When their lips met it was every bit as tentative as Charlie had seen in Ron and Draco, and for him it was an unusual feeling. Normally he kissed as though nothing was new, but with Severus he seemed to have lost his highly honed powers of seduction.  
  
There was a slight groan against him and hands smoothing up his back. Managing to put his hands into the dark hair, as his fingers itched to do, Charlie held Severus in place before opening his lips, permitting the kiss to deepen. Severus took the chance but not for long, and he pulled back with another gentle but closed-mouth kiss.  
  
Neither of them said anything as he pulled out of Charlie’s hands, or when he caught one of them and raised the back of it to his lips. And then, before Charlie could even melt successfully, Severus walked down the steps from the house, turned into the spot, and disapparated.   
  
  
  
  
Charlie remained frozen to the little porch for a long time before the cold finally woke him up. Shivering, he fumbled for his keys, his insides all alight with fire he had forgotten how to feel. But, as he pushed into his house, he realised that once again, now that Severus had left, he felt empty.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Accidental and unwanted MPreg, Angst, Language, fluff, more angst, a bit of 'awwwwh'.

February was cold and Charlie was sick of shivering. He was also sick of absolutely everything aching that could ache, and he was even sicker of bursting into tears about every tiny little thing. He was stressed to a point he had never been before, and his family were creeping around him like he would have a nesting dragon.  
  
Not even the comparison could bring a smile to his face, that between him and his old charges. He was curled up on his sofa, staring moodily into the fire. February had brought the country’s usual bout of snow and much of the land was frozen. He thanked his lucky stars that he was a wizard and could conjure fire, because paying for logs would have truly broken his bank balance.  
 _  
Which is pitifully low for a single twenty-nine-year-old…_  
  
Charlie didn’t want to think about how quickly he was going to have to look for work after the baby was born. If he could still hide his bump he would have already been doing so, but he was so big at eight months that there was no way he could disguise his condition. His back ached whichever way he sat or laid, and the Healers were calling on him twice weekly. The thought of having his gut and health back to normal was the one shining light that Charlie could find.  
  
He was sick of the sight of the inside walls of his house. Charlie couldn’t remember the last time he’d been anywhere other than to The Burrow, and even then it hadn’t been for a couple of days. People had taken to visiting him instead of making him come to them, knowing how self-conscious he was about his stomach and how ill he felt.  
  
Charlie had never felt more ill in his entire life. Every day it was something new. He realised he hadn’t believed the books the Ministry had given him about quite how big a toll the pregnancy would take on his body. But the day when some of his hair came away in his hand had been a huge eye-opener. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have enough of it to lose but it scared him, and invoked a day-long mope.  
  
Moping was becoming something of a speciality, if it hadn’t already done so since he had found out he was pregnant, and it worried the hell out of his family, he knew. But he didn’t know how to stop, and when asked if they would do any differently sitting in their house all day long with only the same things to do, none of them could assure him otherwise. They were so good to him, though, with a constant supply of food, love and support, that he was finding it increasingly hard to tell them just how down and ill he felt.  
  
When he did they only worked harder, popped round more often for ‘just one cup of tea’ which turned into five, maybe a mercy run for a takeaway too, which of course, they always paid for. He had never felt like such a scrounger in all of his life, and it mortified him especially to have his younger brothers pay for food for him. Ron was terrible for it, like their mother in that every time he arrived at the house he had _something_ with him.  
  
And then there was Severus, who came twice every week without fail. He never showed up empty handed, either, but he had taken to bringing things Charlie could never ask his family for, like lube (because, Charlie had to face it –wanking was entertainment when one was pregnant and alone) and other such things it would have killed him to asked any of the others for.  
  
He realised that thinking on Severus a smile had popped onto his lips, but it was chased away when his mind sighed at him.  
  
 _Two months since that kiss and that’s all he’s fucking done to you…_  
  
In the late nights where they had talked, he and Severus had shared several kisses, sitting on the sofa which he sat on at that very moment. Severus touched him gently, carefully, like he was afraid of breaking him, and it was that more than anything which got Charlie angry.  
  
He was so not used to being treated like porcelain. Nobody ever had before and it unnerved him, it made him feel like a different person.  
  
But then Charlie had to concede that, with his attached pregnancy and all its woes, he _was_ a different person.  
  
The Floo suddenly dinged and made him jump beneath his thick blanket.  
  
“Hey,” Ron’s head poked through the flames. “How are you?”  
“Shit,” Charlie yawned.  
“Thought you’d say that,” Ron gave him a grin. “How d’you fancy coming over for dinner? I made burgers, by hand… they’re good…”   
“I’m not really…”  
“In the mood, I know,” Ron chewed on his lip. “But if you sit here another night longer you might go a bit mad, yeah?”  
“I’m already mad?”  
“You always were,” Ron winked at him. “Just come over for an hour, have dinner with us?”  
“Us?”  
“Draco’s here, it was his idea,” Ron blushed, even in the flames. “He wants to get to know you a bit better, I think.”  
  
Charlie thought about it. He hadn’t been able to spend much time at Ron’s flat and felt increasingly guilty about it –his brother needed him after the break-up of a five year relationship and he kept failing him. He only planned to sit on the sofa all night and he could do that at Ron’s.  
  
“Sure, give me a few seconds to change.”  
“Fuck it, come through as you are,” Ron shrugged. “Just us here and my flat’s a sty at the minute.”  
“Alright,” Charlie threw the blanket back and struggled to his feet, as Ron pulled back through the fire.  
  
He picked up his wand and extinguished all the candles as he slipped into old trainers. He was technically in his pyjamas, the ones with the mortifyingly modified waistband to fit around his bump, and an old hoodie, but he was so fat he didn’t particularly care. And the mention of burgers had made him ridiculously hungry.  
  
Stepping through the fire he held his breath and clutched his stomach, hoping it wouldn’t make him throw up, and was glad when he came out into the familiar living room. Except, it wasn’t familiar at all. All the furniture had been moved around, certain pictures were missing, and the walls were a completely different colour.  
  
“He’s getting her out of his life,” Draco supplied in a low tone, from where he sat curled on the sofa reading the Daily Prophet. “Hence the decorating.”  
“Gotcha, thanks for the heads up,” Charlie stepped off the hearth, kicking the soot off his trainers back into the grate. “Is he in the kitchen?”  
“Yes, he makes a wonderful house-elf,” Draco gave him a grin and looked up.  
  
Charlie saw the wince in the grey eyes and knew that the blond was reacting to his appearance. “I know, I look shite,” he said dejectedly.  
“As I’m sure any of us would, if we were carrying what you were,” Draco said quietly with a surprisingly supportive smile.  
  
Charlie returned it and headed to the kitchen. “Smells good, you made me hungry. Hope you have enough for two extra.”  
“That’s the one excuse you’re going to miss when that thing pops out of you, isn’t it?” Ron didn’t look up from the pan as he turned the meat.  
“There had to be at least one privilege, right?” Charlie snorted, leaning back against the only clear counter.   
  
The kitchen, too, had been decorated, and he much preferred it. “I love all your changes.”  
“Oh, them,” Ron’s ears went red at the tip. “Thought it was time. She did all the decorating and I hated most of it. Why stick with it when she’s not here anymore, eh?”  
“Damn right,” Charlie nodded. “Have you heard from her at all?”  
“No,” Ron shook his head, it was hard to tell if he was hurt by it or not. “I sent her things round, and didn’t get a reply.”  
“Bitch,” Charlie muttered beneath his breath.  
“Don’t call her that,” Ron sighed and finally looked up. “I know that it’s not… but I can’t just stop…”  
“Loving her?” Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Ron, she cheated on you. And you have a boyfriend now.”  
“Who understands,” Ron countered.  
“But for how long?”   
“What?”  
“You’ve been together two months now,” Charlie picked at his thumbnail. “I mean… I get that he understands, but if he was waiting to make a move on you, Ron… if you keep mooning over her…”  
“I’m not mooning,” Ron hissed. “I’m not stupid enough to want someone back who doesn’t love me. I’m just… it was a long time.”  
  
“Sorry,” Charlie closed his eyes and dropped his chin. Pregnancy had also seemingly loosened his tongue to the point of bluntness, whereas before he had always been somewhat tactful, a peacemaker. Now it seemed like he could only cause friction.  
  
Ron surprised him then by wandering up for a hug, and Charlie was glad he was leaning back against the worktop for it. “How do you feel?” Ron asked.  
“Like I’ve been sat on by a dragon,” Charlie moaned into his shoulder. “I hate this, I hate it.”  
“I hate seeing you like this,” Ron offered, and pulled away, giving a sympathetic pat to Charlie’s bump. “Char?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Have you thought about names any more?”  
“Not you too,” Charlie groaned, reaching up to drag his fingers through his curls. “Mum’s been on at me the past week. She says now that I’m reaching the end I should be prepared, in case it comes sooner rather than later. Which is also why she dragged me out shopping.”  
“Oh, I heard about that,” Ron wrinkled his nose and moved to chop up salad.  
“I’ll do that,” Charlie pushed off and took the knife from him, and set about slicing onions.  
  
“So have you got everything you need? I… have no idea what you’d need,” Ron made a face, blushing.   
“I think I have it all, and what makes it worse is that I couldn’t fucking pay for half of it.”  
“Well, do you know how happy it made mum?” Ron asked tentatively. “You know what it was like when we were kids… though maybe not as much as me, never having anything new… and she wanted to give us that. Now she finally has money, but we all have money too, so there’s nobody really to spoil. Let her have her fun, Charlie.”  
“I’d not looked at it that way,” Charlie admitted, as moisture gathered in his eyes. “Fuck these are strong.”  
  
Ron laughed. “Yeah yeah, big burly wizard.”  
“Shut up!” Charlie dragged his forearm over his eyes. “Fucking hell.”  
“They’ll taste good though. Remind me in March and I’ll come over and sort your garden out.”  
“Why are you so good to me?” Charlie asked at large.  
“Because you’re my big brother,” Ron rolled his eyes.   
“Not like you haven’t got enough of them,” Charlie snorted. “So, how’re things with you and Draco then? Why isn’t he in here chopping onions?”  
“Because I seem to ruin all the food I touch,” Draco drawled from behind them.  
“It’s true,” Ron wrinkled his nose. “Disaster. It’s better for my bank balance that he just stays out of the kitchen.”  
“Why don’t you teach him then?” Charlie asked, looking between them. “It’s not that hard.”  
  
“You’ve grown up with a mother who likes cooking,” Draco said, pulling some wine from the fridge. “I grew up with a mother who asked a house-elf for everything, and if I’d ever been found asking one of them how to make something, my backside would have been blue for weeks.”  
“So you can’t even make cakes or beans on toast?” Charlie asked.  
“Barely even toast,” Ron sniggered. “I don’t mind though.”  
“You’re like mum,” Charlie shook his head.  
  
They worked together then, chatting in amicable tones about nothing important, Draco poured wine for him and Ron and commiserated with Charlie over his paltry glass of apple juice, and set the table whilst the two of them cooked together. Charlie couldn’t quite believe how he had bounced from down to high in a matter of half an hour, when he looked back at himself sat on his sofa moping.  
  
Sitting down at a table to eat with people felt odd, and Charlie even laughed with them when they both sniggered at the fact his bump stopped him from pulling his chair all the way in.  
  
“You know, it is good for one thing, though,” he dipped a chip in some tomato sauce and chewed on it. “I can now rest an entire bowl of cornflakes on it, and eat them, without spilling anything. Works with soup too but that’s a bit more risky, a sitting down job.”  
“What else can we balance on it?” Ron snorted as he took a mouthful of wine.  
“I kind of get worried in case he kicks,” Charlie laughed. “And then I’d be a mess and would have wasted some food.”  
  
The conversation bounced on as their plates began to empty, Ron talked about work and Charlie learnt that Draco was involved in compiling case files to do with the war. He could tell from the look on the pale face that it was sucking the soul out of the Malfoy heir to do it, but half-convicted he had no other choice. He noticed the man wore a long-sleeved shirt compared to Ron’s old scraggy t-shirt which was so shrunken that it looked a little obscene. Charlie wondered if that was to hide his Dark Mark.  
  
“Char?” Ron kicked him in the ankle under the table.  
“Ow,” he hissed, wincing.  
“Sorry,” Ron apologised immediately.  
  
“I wear long sleeves to hide it,” Draco confirmed in a quiet voice. “Its fine, Ron. Godric, that first day I met him my eyes were a magnet to his stomach, and that was hardly polite.”  
“I’m sorry,” Charlie flushed, and looked down at his food.  
“How’s Severus?” Draco pressed on resolutely, skimming over the awkwardness with supreme social grace.  
“He’s good, I think,” Charlie smiled. “I should see him soon, actually…”  
“Comes over quite often, doesn’t he?” Ron wheedled.  
“A bit,” Charlie shot them both a ‘look’ and carried on eating.  
“What’s happening between you two?”  
“Ron, stop it,” Draco sighed. “Leave them alone.”  
“I’m just asking, everyone wants to know, mum’s beside herself with questions but she won’t ask him because she’s scared he’ll cry on her.”  
  
“And you’re not scared I’ll break down on you?”  
“If you did I’d just deal with it,” Ron shrugged. “We’re closer than everyone thinks.”  
  
They fell to silence then, each of them thoughtfully chewing on their food until they reached an empty plate each. Draco stood and immediately collected them, carrying them to the sink where he set a charm going to wash them up. Ron leaned back in his chair and nuzzled into the blonde’s touch when Draco mussed his hair. Watching them together made Charlie disgustingly warm inside, and Ron looked so happy as Draco re-filled their glasses, and sat back down again.  
  
“I’m not sure,” he said finally, “About Severus and me… it’s complicated.”  
“What isn’t?” Draco laughed. “And where my godfather is concerned it’s always a bit more complicated, just because he’s Severus.”  
“Do you feel for him?” Ron asked over the rim of his glass. “The few times I’ve seen you together, you’re so… warm, it’s really odd. I never thought he could be that way.”  
“He’s a person just like you or I,” Draco folded his arms over his chest. “And when I was little he would always give me the best presents on my birthday and at Christmas. And when my Father was mean, if I could, I would run to Severus over my mother.”  
“Weird to think of him looking after a child,” Ron mused.  
“Soon enough he’ll be doing it again, I suppose,” Draco commented with a pointed look at Charlie’s belly.  
“So he’s going to be involved, then?” Ron asked. “He’s going to help you raise him?”  
“Yes,” Charlie confirmed. “He seems really eager and I want him to be there.”  
“And what about you?” Ron narrowed his eyes and his tone was riddled with protectiveness. “Will he be helping to look after you in the aftermath?”  
  
Draco poked Ron in the ribs and made apologetic eyes at Charlie.  
  
“Its fine,” Charlie shrugged. “I’ve had nearly twenty-two years of his badly timed questions, I’m used to it. _I don’t know,_ Ron, is the answer. We’re getting to know one another at the minute.”  
  
Ron opened his mouth to answer but suddenly there was a bell from the Floo and he groaned. “Fuck, back in a sec.”   
  
He left the kitchen leaving Charlie and Draco alone.  
  
“He worries about you,” Draco said quietly. “He wants you over for dinner every night but won’t ask in case he upsets you.”  
“I probably wouldn’t come if he did ask,” Charlie murmured, just as Ron came back into the kitchen swearing.  
  
“I’ve got to fucking go into work,” he groused, tugging his scarlet Auror robes over his head as he spoke. “Some fucking bastard’s gone and set off a load of ever-lasting fireworks in the middle of a Muggle town centre, it’s mental apparently.”  
  
He emerged dishevelled from the neck of the robes and let them fall to the floor. “Will you two be alright?”  
  
Ron’s eyes looked between them, and then Draco and Charlie looked at one another.  
  
“I think we can get along without killing each other,” Draco smirked up at Ron. “Be safe.”  
“As always,” Ron groaned, ducking and placing a kiss on the pale lips before pulling up. “I love my job, I love my job.”  
  
“Keep telling yourself that,” Draco and Charlie shouted after him in unison, and then both cracked up laughing together.  
“He’s good at what he does,” Draco said after they’d heard the pop of apparition from the living room.  
“One of the best,” Charlie said proudly, kicking his feet out and resting them on Ron’s vacated chair.  
“Living room? These things are uncomfortable when you’re not eight months pregnant,” Draco gracefully scooped up the wine glass in his hand and got to his feet.  
  
Charlie followed him at a much slower pace, his spine stiff for no reason at all, and gratefully dropped down at the other end of the sofa to the handsome blond.  
  
“Severus will be good to you,” Draco said suddenly, turning towards him. “He is a good man, at heart. Whatever mistakes he has made in the past, you should know that despite his faults… he is a good man.”  
“I know,” Charlie assured him. “And I want to get to know him better… he’s so reserved, it makes things hard and being like this doesn’t help on the romance front,” he waved a hand at his belly.  
  
Draco gave him a smile and turned his gaze on the fire before he spoke again. “I’m worried about Ron.”  
“Welcome to the club, I’ve been in it for twenty-two years next week,” Charlie kept his tone light.  
“I mean… I’m worried about what my father will do when he finds out,” Draco’s voice had lowered. “Severus wasn’t exaggerating when he spoke of the pressure on me to further the Malfoy line, Charlie. There will be hell to pay.”  
“Ron won’t let you go through it alone,” Charlie offered, unsure as to what to say.  
“That’s what scares me,” Draco sighed. “My father will go for him. He’ll have no scruples; he will just want my lover out of the picture.”  
“So you’re saying you’re worried for his physical safety?” Charlie blinked.  
“Yes,” Draco answered frankly. “My father may have kept out of Azkaban by the skin of his teeth –as did I- but that does not mean he is any more amenable.”  
  
They fell into silence then and Charlie tried to think of something helpful to say, but he came up empty. His eyes watched Draco’s hand worrying the cuff of his expensive shirt.  
  
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said finally, looking down into his juice. “About staring at your arm.”  
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Draco shrugged. “It has faded, quite a lot, because he’s gone. That helps and I… well.”  
  
Charlie opened his mouth to protest, to assure the young man that he didn’t need to see it if it would make him uncomfortable, but Draco had already begun to roll up his sleeve. He eventually held out the pale forearm and Charlie frowned, leaning forward with narrowed eyes.  
  
The skin around the mark was marred with scars, all of which he could estimate at about five years old. They distorted what was left of the Dark Mark.  
  
“After the war, I was not well,” Draco explained simply, and took a deep mouthful of wine without covering his arm back up. “Ron knows all about that, rather hard to hide.”  
“It must have been hard.”  
“It was, but, everybody lived through hardship in the war,” Draco shrugged. “We fell from favour with Voldemort but were trapped in his service. It comes to something when you find your own father close to a nervous breakdown because he’s knocked an ink bottle over. It must have been worse for your side, never knowing who you were going to return home and find dead.”  
  
“I think most of us still have nightmares,” Charlie certainly knew he did.  
“So don’t feel sorry for me,” Draco shrugged. “I don’t deserve your pity. I made the wrong choices.”  
“Did you make them, though, or did your father make them for you?”  
“That is a loaded question.”  
  
More silence fell and Charlie took to watching the clock tick on the wall. “How is he, Draco? Is he coping without her?”  
“Mainly, I find him staring into space at her side of the bed sometimes,” Draco’s voice was tense. “And I understand it. I am the rebound relationship, and I know it.”  
“Why would you settle for that?”  
“Because I’ve wanted him for a long time.”  
“And you’d rather this than nothing at all?”  
“Exactly. He might come to love me –if he doesn’t, then I will take my wounds and lick them elsewhere.”  
“I hope for your sake he does come to care for you like he did her.”  
“Oh, I want more than that,” Draco said. “I want his _complete_ devotion.”  
“You don’t think he gave that to her?” Charlie frowned.  
“No, I don’t,” Draco shrugged. “I think that the fire was dead long before this all came out in the wash.”  
  
Charlie chewed into his lip, wondering if the man was right. If he was then it made Charlie feel even worse about how little he apparently knew his brother, one of the men he counted amongst his best friends. A pang strengthened in his chest until he had to cough to clear it away.  
  
“I was thinking,” Draco began. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while, but could never get you on your own and didn’t feel comfortable just dropping by your house…”  
“Any time,” Charlie shrugged. “I’m always in, always bored out of my skull.”  
“I find it hard to believe you won’t hex me when I knock on your door, any of you,” Draco confessed. “Even your Mum, who is so nice to me when she shouldn’t be…”  
“Mum is… special,” Charlie laughed. “She wants to see Ron happy and at the minute, you’re making Ron happy, so you’re welcome. It’s why she extends the same to Severus, because he’s making me happy.”  
  
“I’ll be sure to pass that on to Ron,” Draco turned to him then with a smirk, “He’s been dying to hear you say that. He really does care about you, Charlie, very much. Those first weeks of our relationship where you two weren’t talking were awful. He was so upset that he had upset you, I didn’t know what to do.”  
“I’m sorry,” Charlie blushed.  
  
“I wouldn’t have talked to him, either,” Draco said bluntly. “You had made yourself clear.”  
“But I have him to thank for Severus in my life now…”  
“It could have gone either way.”  
  
“It’s nice that someone understands, other than Severus, I mean…”  
“If I’m completely honest I have no idea how you’re doing it, Charlie. You’re a braver man than me.”  
“I haven’t got the foggiest either… just, Draco?”  
“Mm?”  
“I don’t want any information, but please god, make him keep up the contraceptive charms I taught him, that the Ministry taught me. Just in case.”  
“I do,” Draco assured him. “But he… he would never tell you this, because he knows how… you feel on the matter, but he has told me that if it were him, he would like it. He would like carrying his own child. He very much wants his own children.”  
  
Ron had never said that to Charlie, and again he felt like a fraternal failure. “He’s too young,” Charlie sighed finally.  
  
“I agree,” Draco shrugged. “So you have my word. And there is… it’s his Birthday next week. I have a surprise planned. I’d like to take him away for a few days, abroad, to clear his mind, get him out of the country and away from everything. I’ve already cleared it with our work schedules but I’ve wanted to talk to you.”  
“Me, why?” Charlie frowned.  
“Because it coincides with the time that you could go into labour with the baby, and I don’t want to take him away from you.”  
  
Flabbergasted that someone he thought so conceited could be so very considerate, Charlie didn’t know what to say. Upset tears built in his eyes again and he tried to hide them, but when they spilt he couldn’t.  
  
“Erm, fuck,” he sniffed, reaching up to drag the back of his hand over his eyes. “No, of course, take him away… that’s a really thoughtful present and… and he’ll love it.”  
  
His voice was becoming more choked with every word, and he wanted to bolt. He got to his feet and set his drink down on the end table.  
  
“I’ve upset you,” Draco followed him up, regret in his expression.  
“No, just… all this shit,” Charlie waved his hand at his belly. “I’m going to…” he motioned at the fireplace. “Take him on holiday, he’ll love it. Thank you, thanks for looking after him.”  
  
Draco said nothing as he stumbled to the fireplace and scooped up some powder, leaving without another word. By the time he landed in his cold house he was properly crying, tears streaking down his face with ridiculous speed. He didn’t even bother to light the candles before he dropped onto the sofa, buried his face in his hands and began to cry in earnest.  
  
He wasn’t even particularly sure why. Draco had told him some truths that he hadn’t known, and then spoken of something he wanted to do for Ron which was so sweet and kind that Charlie was blown away by the man’s thoughtfulness.  
  
A montage of images flashed through his mind of Ron and Draco throughout the night. It seemed as though his brain had catalogued every single tender touch, lingering look and kiss and kind motion between them, and it quickly drove him insane. The romance was clear to see and it was that which wrenched his gut so much.  
  
 _He_ didn’t have that, and he wanted it, he realised. Maybe not a live-in lover, but maybe someone to hold him as he fell asleep at night, as he was sure that Ron and Draco would do in a few hours time. And what would he do? Lie in a cold bed and look up at the ceiling, have a lonely wank and fall asleep, miserable.  
  
His wail was bitter when it came and he pressed his palms into his face, thinking that if he pushed hard enough that he might be able to stop the tears.  
  
He craved a pint so badly that it burned his throat, and his spine ached, and his ankles were painful, his head throbbed and he really, truly didn’t know what to do with himself. The misery had caught up with him so quickly, vanished the happiness he had felt sharing dinner with his brother and partner as soon as that itself had come.  
  
“Oh fucking _god_ ,” he howled to the room. “When the fuck did I get so fucking pathetic?”  
  
Charlie knew that he should firecall someone for company before things got out of hand, that he shouldn’t be that upset alone. But the thought of facing anybody so distraught made him cold.  
  
He was not the person that ran to others for comfort; he was the person that others ran to for the comfort. He was the one with the warm hugs, the smiling face, the gentle onslaught of jokes to get a crying person laughing. He was the one that offered support, and Charlie still, after all the months of being pregnant, aching, throwing up, hurting, he still wasn’t used to the idea of relying on anybody else but himself.  
  
At that moment the Floo dinged again and he jumped, peering through his fingers at the green flames.  
  
“Charlie, it’s me,” Severus’ voice called out to the room. “May I enter? Draco was worried about you.”  
  
Charlie accepted him without moving, without prying his face from his damp fingers, and waited for him to speak again.  
  
However there were no words, only the feeling of the sofa dipping beside him and then warm arms going about his torso.  
  
“Tell me what the matter is,” Severus whispered closed to his ear.  
“Nothing, I’m just having a…” Charlie choked off and buried his face in Severus’ shoulder.  
“Moment,” Severus finished for him and comfortingly stroked his back.  
  
Charlie lost himself in the sensation of the thin hand sweeping up and down his spine, realising after a moment that it was the same way that he always comforted Ron when he was upset, too.  
  
“I’m sorry, Severus,” he murmured after five minutes, when his tears had dried up. “I’m really sorry you had to see that.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Severus held him a little tighter. “I’m glad Draco firecalled me.”  
“I don’t know why,” Charlie sniffed.  
“I know,” Severus’ other hand sank into his hair and played with his curls gently. “Sometimes there’s never really a reason why.”  
  
Charlie waited until his blood had completely calmed down before he pulled back and rubbed embarrassedly at his face. “Oh god, poor Draco. I bet I scared the living daylights out of him.”  
“He’s a tough boy,” Severus assured him. “Now,” the man got to his feet and lit the house with a sweep of his wand. “You stay there; I’m going to make you a cup of tea. Put your feet up.”  
  
Charlie was so shocked at being bossed about in his own house that he had to obey Severus’ strictly given orders, and he leant back into the soft sofa cushions in astonishment. He heard him in the kitchen, heard the kettle whistling, and when five minutes later the man came back into sight levitating two cups of tea and some cake, he wanted to burst into tears all over again.  
  
He immediately reached for his mug to blow on it, his tears had run his mouth dry, and took a sip as soon as he could bear. Charlie tasted the calming draught instantly and had to smile.  
“Drugging me without my knowledge?” he smiled wanly at Severus.  
“I was rather hoping you wouldn’t notice,” Severus made a face as he sat back down. “Now, would you like to talk about it or would you like a distraction?”  
“Distraction please,” Charlie shifted in his seat and kicked his trainers off onto the floor, flexing his feet in relief.  
  
“Your mother came into my shop today,” Severus said calmly, reaching out for his cake.   
“Oh?” Charlie’s brows furrowed.  
“I was surprised, too,” Severus admitted. “But she was very pleasant, don’t worry.”  
“What did she want to buy? She always brews everything herself, always has.”  
“It was a social visit.”  
“Oh Gods, what’s she said?” Charlie made a face.  
“Nothing, honestly, she was very polite, asked how I was. She wanted to know more about my memory lapses, and if there was anything she could do to help.”  
  
“How was the rest of your day?” Charlie sipped at his tea, not knowing what to volunteer on his mother’s random visit.  
“Rather dull but I got the rest of the week’s commissions done,” Severus turned to him with a small smile. “So that’s another good sack of galleons for your bank account.”  
  
Charlie swallowed. He opened his mouth to protest but Severus glared at him.  
  
“Not one word,” Severus hissed. “It takes all of my strength not to march up to Gringotts and deposit half of my account into yours.”  
“I have no right to take that money,” Charlie sighed. “It’s not mine, it’s yours, you’ve worked hard for it.”  
“And what will it do if you don’t use it?” Severus arched an eyebrow, the kind of eyebrow which told Charlie he was about to lose an argument.  
“Make lots of interest,” he answered feebly.  
“Interest which I will not spend, because I don’t spend the money that’s earning it, either,” Severus told him matter-of-factly. “Where as you will use it, to live and eat, and when the baby comes to look after it. How many times must we have this disagreement, Charlie?”  
  
“Oh, until the baby’s ten, at least,” Charlie managed a smile and reached for his cake, but his bump prevented him. “I can’t wait until this thing is gone,” he grimaced as Severus passed it to him.  
“Mothers world over think that,” Severus pointed out. “But for you it must be extra hard…”  
  
“I honest to Morgana don’t know how Mum did this seven times,” Charlie said weakly. “I feel like I’ve been trampled by a centaur herd.”  
“A male pregnancy is very different to a female one,” Severus offered. “Your body is completely confused, producing for two, your hips are narrow and therefore not conducive to a childbearing environment –of course you are going to feel it.”  
“Yeah but…” Charlie chomped on his cake. “Seven times? I mean, what the fuck?”  
“She must have wanted a girl very much.”  
“Oh, god yeah, Ron’s biggest complex of all time, that,” Charlie huffed.  
  
Severus looked at him oddly, forcing him to continue.  
  
“Think about it –you’re the last boy, and the child after you is a girl, and then suddenly your parents stop reproducing. How would you feel? Wouldn’t you feel a bit like if, say, the twins had been girls, you might never have been born? Or they might love you a bit less than the baby that came after you?”  
“But your mother dotes on Ron like he’s going out of fashion,” Severus was wide-eyed.  
“Now it’s obvious she does,” Charlie tapped his finger on his mug. “But when we were younger… I spent an awful lot of time with his head on my shoulder, let’s put it that way.”  
“And you?” Severus pondered. “Did you ever feel hard done by, all those brothers to contend with, and eventually a sister?”  
  
Charlie thought about his answer. “I only had to contend with Bill. There are three years between me and Perce, so by the time he came along I had had my fill of attention, if you see what I mean? And Bill was the best big brother you could hope for. So no, not really. But I did understand Ron a lot, though. You’d think it was through personal experience, but it wasn’t, really.”  
  
“At times I hated being an only child,” Severus said quietly. “It was so lonely... but then my parents were nothing like yours either, and I don’t think it would have been fair to have another child in that environment.”  
“You don’t talk about it much.”  
“No. Just know it is the reason I’m determined to be there for our child. To make sure that he has love in his life.”  
“You don’t think that I’d…”  
“That is not what I meant,” Severus said gently. “I just mean that I want to give what nobody gave me to our child, is all, Charlie. I was not casting aspersions on your parenting skills.”  
  
“You’d be right to,” Charlie shifted uncomfortably. “I still can’t feel anything for it.”  
“Maybe it will come with the birth?”  
“And if it doesn’t?”  
  
He couldn’t even sound scared about the possibility. His house was full of gear for when the child in his stomach arrived, and his body was so, so ready to lose the parasite sapping it of his strength. If it weren’t for the baby at the end of it, Charlie would be ecstatic.  
  
“Then we will cross that bridge if we come to it,” Severus’ voice was decisive and Charlie was happy not to argue. “You have an owl.”  
  
Charlie then heard the tapping on the window and opened it with his wand. The bird landed on the arm of the chair and gave him a gentle hoot. Stroking its feathers Charlie took the letter and thanked it with a chirruping noise.  
  
“Do that again,” Severus said in awe as Charlie closed the window.  
“What?” Charlie peered at the envelope, recognising Christian’s handwriting.  
“That noise which made the bird talk to you before it took off,” Severus demanded.  
  
Charlie flushed and made the noise again.  
  
“How are you so wonderful with animals?” Severus shook his head in amazement.  
“Dunno, used to get me in so much shit at school, though, because I would never transfigure them,” Charlie grinned, and banished the letter to the mantelpiece.  
  
Strictly speaking, Severus did not know about his correspondence with the blond Australian and Charlie for some reason didn’t think he should tell him.  
  
“Someone from the reserve,” he explained with a smile. “Always rabbits on about the dragons for a page each, likes to keep me updated.”  
  
Lying, and hating it, Charlie crossed the fingers that Severus could not see and hoped he wasn’t bringing anything bad down around his shoulders.  
  
“So do you like normal animals, then? You don’t need something to breathe fire to sate your adventure need?”  
“I love dogs,” Charlie grinned. “I think I’ll get one, when I’m a bit settled. Something big, hairy.”  
“Our boy will probably be like you, so it’s a good idea.”  
“Why d’you think that?” Charlie asked curiously.  
“I just… have a feeling,” Severus shrugged. “He will look like you, be like you, have the same eyes as you. I hope he does, anyway. You are considerably better looking than I am, and I wouldn’t like him to go through Hogwarts with my nose. Children are cruel.”  
  
Charlie snorted into his mug. “If he’s like me he’d be able to handle them, I’m sure you remember the amount of minor punch-ups I got into?”  
“Detention records?” Severus smirked.  
“Don’t tell my mother,” Charlie glared but broke into a grin.  
  
Once again his sombre mood had floated away.  
  
“Do you ever wish it could be a girl?” Charlie turned towards him, swinging his feet up onto the sofa.  
“I have never really thought about it, if I’m honest. It will be easier for us to raise a boy, I think… no explaining in depth about… women’s issues.”  
“Thank fuck,” Charlie agreed. “Was bad enough learning about periods from this side of the gene pool, let alone the other.”  
  
They fell into companionable silence and Charlie realised that Severus’ steady presence in his home was what calmed him, made his blood still and allowed him to relax. He jumped when the Floo went off again, and Ron tumbled through without announcing himself. Dropping soot all over the rug he looked madly about.  
  
“Oh, thank fuck, you’re alright,” he sagged. “You’ve scared the life out of Draco, he’s really worried.”  
“I’m sorry,” Charlie said automatically. “Blame the baby, I’ll come round and apologise to him tomorrow.”  
“Severus,” Ron sent him a friendly smile, his sapphire eyes noting the way that Charlie’s feet had crept to rest on the man’s thighs. “I’ll be off, just wanted to check on you.”  
  
He disappeared again and the green flames died down.  
  
“You have such a loving web around you,” Severus sounded envious.  
“They can be a little overbearing,” Charlie sighed. “But I love them, and they’ve been so good to me over this whole thing.”  
“They could have reacted badly to me being the father, you mean?” Severus asked slyly.  
“No,” Charlie insisted. “I mean in general.”  
“I expected them to, you know. I expected that they would accuse me of coercion, of anything, really, to take the heat off you.”  
  
“My sexual partners are none of their business, and they know that,” Charlie reached out and set his empty mug down.  
“Ron seems to be rather territorial.”  
“I’m his big brother,” Charlie re-iterated. “He’s allowed to be if he’s worried. And they’re all worried.”  
“As am I,” Severus looked at him sharply. “I don’t like you being alone here all day. It gives contempt plenty of time to breed, and other bad thoughts too.”  
“I know,” Charlie moaned. “I’m so ready for this to be over, Severus. But what’s at the end of it? A screaming baby, a mouth to feed?”  
  
“He might be an easy baby, with magic they are quite simple to care for…”  
“I’m going to need a job,” Charlie reminded him. “I need money and once I can work, I ought to. Mum’s said she’ll babysit whenever we need her.”  
“And I can have him in the shop with me on days when I don’t need to brew.”  
“You’d do that?”  
  
Severus frowned at him, his eyes incredulous. “Have I never offered before? I thought I had?”  
“No.”  
“Sorry… I will gladly look after him on days when I am just selling. It would be dangerous to have him whilst brewing, though, so we can sort something out.”  
“That’s… great,” Charlie looked down at his hands, humbled though he didn’t know why –Severus was the baby’s other father, why shouldn’t he look after him when he could?  
  
“I’ve been thinking,” Severus posed delicately. “My clientele has always been rather large, and I can handle that when I have nothing else to deal with. But, looking after the baby too, I might be able to use a hand in the shop a couple of days a week. I can certainly take the paycut to pay you, and you wouldn’t be full time. What do you think? What are your brewing skills like?”  
  
“Alright, but I haven’t done it for a long time…”  
“Well I can teach you, if you’d like. Don’t feel you have to accept, I know you will want your independence when the baby is born and you can leave the house again. It is just a suggestion.”  
  
Severus gave him a warm smile and then looked away, as if the emotion became too much for him. Charlie remained with his gaze trained on him, seeing the long dark hair and pale skin, and wondering how he had ever found someone so kind within the cold shell the man usually projected.  
  
“You should probably get going,” Charlie finally caught sight of the clock. “I don’t want to ruin your evening.”  
“My evening was sitting with a dull book and bed,” Severus groaned. “Please, save me from my own boredom.”  
  
***  
“This game is ridiculous,” Severus glowered at his properties. “How on earth am I meant to afford a hotel on either of these blue ones? And, I’ve been to Park Lane; I frankly don’t think it’s worth the money they’re asking.”  
“Shut up and play your turn,” Charlie groused, only because he was winning.  
  
Grumbling Severus rolled the dice and moved along the board and Charlie saw what was going to happen before it did. The Hat landed on the ‘Go to Jail’ space and Severus growled at it.  
  
“This is completely unfair, whatever happened to justice?” he hissed, dumping his player piece in the jail.  
“Look at you all indignant over the silly Muggle game,” Charlie snorted, picking up the dice and rolling them. He moved his metal dog to the Community Chest space and gingerly picked up a card. “Oh, SCORE, I won a beauty contest,” Charlie smirked. “Bow to me, for I am sexy.”  
  
“Yes, you are,” Severus looked at him with dark eyes.  
“Really? Even though I’m fat?” Charlie mocked. “And let’s not forget I wasn’t skinny before the baby… you want skin and bones you need to look to Ron and Bill.”  
“I’m happy with the Weasley I chose in an inebriated funk, if it’s all the same to you,” Severus said, clearly hoping that Charlie hadn’t noticed the £500 note he had just slipped out of the treasury.  
  
“I see you cheating,” Charlie narrowed his eyes.  
“What?” Severus asked innocently.  
“Is this the moment to confess that I’ve been picking up double everything since the game began?” Charlie broke into a beam and ran his tongue around the bottom of his teeth.  
“You bastard,” Severus was open-mouthed.  
“Hey, that’s what happens when you play this game without a banker,” Charlie shrugged with a laugh.  
  
Severus huffed at him and leant back on the sofa. “I never had you down for a cheater, Weasley.”  
“I’m playing against a _Slytherin_ ,” Charlie rolled his eyes. “What do you expect?”  
“Tarring us all with the same brush, how noble of you,” Severus folded his arms over his chest.  
“Awwh, are you going to get all sulky on me?” Charlie asked incredulously, his eyebrows rising when Severus pointedly looked the other way. “Oh, gods, Severus, that’s so cute.”  
“Shut up,” the man warned,  
  
Charlie laughed as he rose onto his knees and crawled over the sofa to lean around until Severus could turn his head no further away. His distended belly was resting on the thin thighs and Charlie grinned as Severus was forced to look at him.  
  
“Aren’t you just the sorest loser ever?” he whispered.  
“Yes, Slytherins generally are,” Severus rolled his eyes, and Charlie stayed in place whilst they shared their first kiss of the night.  
  
It was warm and beautifully wet; he melted into it, and even moaned a little when Severus reached up one hand and cupped the side of his face.  
  
“I wish you’d do that more often,” Charlie murmured, feeling freer with his speech that night than he had in all the hours he and Severus had spent together,  
“I will make a note of it,” Severus promised him, kissing him again, thrusting his tongue deeper into Charlie’s mouth.  
“So bloody passionate,” Charlie smiled. “Are you sure you aren’t some sort of love machine on the side?”  
  
Severus stared at him like he had grown an extra head and then burst into dark laughter, his face creasing as he chortled. “Think about what you’ve just said,” he said finally, unable to wipe the sarcastic grin from his lips.  
“But you’re so good at kissing,” Charlie winked, and stole another from the thin lips. “It makes me wonder where you learnt your skill…”  
  
“That’s another thing about Slytherins,” Severus leant a little closer. “You’ll find we are the most naturally talented house.”  
  
Charlie didn’t answer; he was too busy kissing Severus. His hands began to wander, skirting the man’s shoulders, running down his arms, transferring to his chest and touching what he could through the thin material.  
  
So lost was he in his exploration that he didn’t realise he had moved to straddle Severus’ thighs until his bump got in the way and his back protested in pain.  
  
“Can we move this to the bed?” he asked hopefully, making eyes at his open bedroom door. “I’m so…”  
  
Severus kissed him again, pulling him closer, squashing his bump between them. Below it, Charlie wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have felt an erection. Too high up to be his own, he suddenly burst alive with tingles and joy shot through him at the thought of Severus finding him attractive, even though he looked so ill and so pregnant.  
  
“Isn’t that moving a little…” Severus murmured against his lips.  
“Nothing too much,” Charlie begged. “Just you. In my bed. Naked preferably? Please?”  
  
He widened his eyes, pulling the puppy-dog look which had more than often got him everything he wanted as child, within reason. Severus was looking back at him with indecisive eyes.  
  
“I don’t want to jeopardise how far we have come together,” the man said finally.  
“It won’t,” Charlie promised him, well aware that his voice was almost a whine. “I just want to feel you next to me…”  
  
He kissed Severus again, bringing up his own large hands to cup the narrow face within them.  
  
“No wonder you got me into bed that night,” Severus breathed, pulling back. “You’re irresistible…”  
“I’m even better without god knows how many pounds of baby in me,” Charlie climbed off him and tugged him to standing.  
  
The living room plunged to darkness as he pulled Severus through it, heading for the bedroom. As soon as they were there he felt hands on the hem of his jumper and it let it disappear up over his head, sending his curls into disarray. Severus then smoothed his cool fingers over the baby bump and looked at it somewhat worshipfully. Charlie was caught breathless by the look in the man’s dark eyes and froze, not reacting as Severus kissed him on the forehead.  
  
“So beautiful,” Severus whispered to him. “You were before and you are now, though I know you don’t believe that. No man would.”  
“Pregnancy fetish?” Charlie raised his eyebrows in disbelief.  
“God no,” Severus looked up at him. “I feel disgusting touching you… it feels wrong, somehow…”  
“It’s not,” Charlie begged, “It’s so right…so right… don’t you think my dad would have gone mad if he didn’t get to touch my mum when she was pregnant? He would have gone mad…”  
  
In the process of that speech Charlie had unbuttoned the front of Severus’ shirt in one fell swoop and pushed it off his shoulders. Touching his fingers to the pale skin for the first time had him almost panting.  
  
“The bed?” Severus cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable.  
“Oh no,” Charlie shook his head and immediately put his mouth to kiss along the prominent collarbones. “Let me see you.”  
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Severus dodged away, stripped himself of his own trousers and climbed into the double bed in his underwear.  
  
Charlie sighed, removing his own bottoms and headed for the bed, smiling when he heard Severus’ deep breaths of his scent from the duvet. Slipping in beside him he groaned, the mattress feeling divine on the sore points of his body.  
  
“I love my bed,” he breathed happily. “I love it, Severus.”  
  
The man snorted and rolled onto his side, placing one hand on Charlie’s belly. They kissed again and Charlie shivered when the hand glided over the curve to gently stroke his cock through his pants.  
  
“Is this alright?” Severus murmured.  
“You have to ask?” Charlie gasped as the fingers closed around him. “Can’t you feel?”  
“You’re sizzling like you’re in heat; you might feel this way about anybody…” Severus teased, nuzzling the side of his face.  
  
It felt so good to have a hand other than his own on his cock, which he hadn’t seen of late, except for in the mirror, that Charlie couldn’t drum up any more words. He tried to arch upwards but it hurt his back and he whimpered to find himself so sexually impaired.  
  
“Shh,” Severus tacked their lips together. “Let me…”  
  
His hand sped up, working the shaft through the underwear. It reminded Charlie of being a teenager, grabbing a sneaky wank from his first boyfriend in the Quidditch changing rooms after the rest of the team had left. The scent of leather and the showers floated back to him like it was only yesterday, but instead of the blond which resembled that first boy, the man holding him from behind with his hand buried deep in Charlie’s pants was dark-haired and smelt of tea and herbs.  
  
It was Severus all over and Charlie happily moaned into the still bedroom air, throwing his head back and curling his toes in desire. Severus engaged his mouth and licked at his tongue. Both of them had their eyes open, they held a silent conversation between onyx and amber-brown.  
  
Charlie came out of it smiling, and in seconds later, as the hand in his groin sped up and his blood began to thump in his ears, his expression melted to relief.  
  
Whether it was because it was the first manly hand on his cock in months, or because he was randy, or because it was Severus, or possibly all three, Charlie found his climax sweeping him up in an embarrassingly short amount of time.  
  
It was hot, thick and curled deep into his groin as he spilt into his underwear and cried out into Severus’ mouth. Instantly he knew it was one of the best he had ever had, and he whispered as much as he breathed through the aftershocks; he enjoyed the slight blush which blossomed on Severus’ face at the praise.  
  
It did, however, sap all of his energy, and Charlie was left feeling boneless on the mattress.  
  
“Did you…?” He asked quietly.  
“No, but that’s not important,” Severus kissed him again. “Don’t worry. Go to sleep, I can tell you’re tired.”  
“That’s not fair, though,” Charlie struggled to roll onto his side but Severus pinned him down by his shoulders.  
“It is fair when you’re pregnant, tired, and looking as drawn as you do.”  
  
“Just what a bloke needs to hear,” Charlie glowered. “How shite he looks when he’s just had his brain frazzled by an orgasm.”  
“Go to sleep,” Severus insisted.  
“Will you stay?” Charlie chewed into his lip.  
“If you want me to, I have no other obligations.”  
  
“Stay,” Charlie said immediately, turning to face the bedroom and snuggling backward into Severus’ form.  
  
To feel the man’s mostly naked skin pressing into him was so comforting that Charlie nearly moaned in relief. It felt so normal, so well-practised that they might have done it every night of their adult lives, cuddling up to one another. Severus hooked one arm over his hip to splay his fingers over the bump and Charlie’s heart gave a thud out of time.  
  
 _This is what it could be like, if this works… me and him together…_  
  
That thought filled him with sappy daydreams which Charlie would have slapped himself for eight months ago. He had thought the lifestyle his brothers lived with their partners dull, boring, and certainly not what he was looking for in his own future. But lying there he couldn’t deny that a part of him felt healed for it, as though knowing that there would be someone there to wake up to the next morning made the prospect of a new day more bearable.  
  
A kick jostled Severus’ hand on his tummy and Charlie’s spirits immediately plummeted, remembering the reason that the man was in his bed.  
  
“Severus?” he asked quietly.  
“Mm?” a kiss pressed into his neck.  
“If I wasn’t carrying your baby in my stomach, would you be here now?”  
  
There was a moment of hesitation and then the bed sheets rustled as Severus sat up to look down at him.  
  
“Why do you ask?” he frowned.  
“If I had just come to you and said I liked our night together… would you have made a go of it with me? Do you want me, Severus, or do you just want the baby, and me because I come with it?”  
  
“Charlie… I… where’s this come from?”  
“Just answer me,” Charlie whispered,  
“I honestly don’t know,” Severus looked guilty. “I like you very much… and what we have together is certainly a new reason to get out of bed in the morning…”  
  
Charlie smiled, knowing that Severus had drawn the same sort of metaphor that he had.  
  
“But the fact is we’ve come together because of the baby,” Severus whispered. “And that can’t be changed. If you hadn’t been pregnant, with your sense of nobility to inform me of my son, then would you have ever have come after me?”  
  
Charlie knew the answer to that, and shook his head, lowering his eyes.  
“I won’t ask questions I can’t bear the answer to,” Severus laid back down behind him, and held him a little tighter. “If you don’t, Charlie.”  
“Okay,” Charlie answered immediately, annoyed he had ruined their first sexual experience with his doubting mind.  
  
Severus kissed into his curls. “Goodnight, Charlie.”  
“Night, Severus.”  
  
The darkness wasn’t as lonely, that night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Accidental and unwanted MPreg, Angst, Language, birth and mention of it.

“I hate this!” Charlie’s proclamation was ignored by just about everybody as he dropped the tea towel on the floor and couldn’t bend to pick it up for himself.  
  
 _I am so ready for this bitching thing to be out of me. So ready._  
  
Nine months pregnant was not fun, he found. Charlie drifted between wanting to die and wanting to bask in a massive pity party.  
  
“Here,” Severus immediately ducked and snatched the cloth off the floor, handing it to Charlie as he straightened again.  
“Thank you,” Charlie mouthed with a grateful expression, and swallowed on his thick throat.  
  
He had a week left for his body to naturally give the signal for his baby to be removed or the Healers were going to force matters. Charlie had been ready for them to do that since the end of the eighth month and grew increasingly snappy whenever anybody mentioned the word ‘healer’ or the phrase ‘they’re just doing their job’.  
 _  
Doing their job to keep me in fucking misery,_ he snarled mentally as he viciously dried a glass.  
  
“Calm down,” Severus murmured in his ear. “You’re scaring your mother.”  
“So she bloody should be,” Charlie hissed back. “She promised me this would be fine, and she _lied,_ Severus.”  
  
The man looked at him with a happy but exasperated expression on his face, and Charlie glared at him. They were attending Sunday lunch at The Burrow and so far Charlie had dropped ten things, knocked over a chair and got lodged between the table and the wall. He was not having a good day, or a good week, or a good month.  
  
Feeling like a pressure cooker about to explode in every sense of the matter, he threw the tea towel on the side and set the glass down.  
  
“Do you want to go?” Severus asked him quietly, keeping his eyes on the plate he was washing.  
“Yes please,” Charlie whined, and immediately turned to get their coats. “Mum, we’re off now.”  
“Okay,” Molly’s voice was meek; she clearly knew not to argue with him and for that Charlie was immensely glad. “Stay safe, you know where we are if…”  
“I know,” Charlie shrugged into his jacket which hadn’t been done up in four months and pulled open the back door, waiting for Severus to dry off his hands.  
“Thank you for coming,” Molly said to him as he passed, hurriedly accepting his own coat.  
“A pleasure as always,” Severus answered politely, and Charlie turned his grin to the garden.  
  
In private Severus had finally admitted that he had to hold his tongue an awful lot in the Weasley household and Charlie had begun to recognise that ‘look’ on his face. It generally coincided with the times he was holding his own tongue, and it only convinced him further that what they had between them was turning into something grand.  
  
Finally out of the stuffy kitchen and in a cool March breeze, Charlie heaved a sigh of relief and walked –but mostly waddled-  down to the lane. He went so slowly that Severus caught up with him in no time, and when the man reached for his hand Charlie willingly turned it so that they could lace their fingers together. Walking back to his house hand-in-hand had become somewhat of a tradition, and Charlie couldn’t fight away his smile, despite his bad mood.  
  
“Bill told me something today,” Charlie turned to Severus then, inching closer so that their shoulders brushed together.  
“Oh?” Severus was looking down at his boots.  
“Fleur’s pregnant again.”  
“Does your mother know that?”  
“No, I was the first person he wanted to tell… our kids could end up being in the same year… she’s three months gone.”  
“Why didn’t they mention that before?”  
  
Charlie sighed and shot Severus a look.  
  
“Oh, they didn’t want to upset you.”  
“Yup… I mean, come on, Severus… do they really think I wouldn’t be happy for them?” he screwed up his face in frustration. “I hate what this baby’s done to me and my sunny disposition.”  
  
Severus snorted and replied, “Well, only your mother ever called it that.”  
“Shut up,” Charlie grinned reluctantly as they turned up the drive to his house.  
  
He was eager to get Severus inside so that he could work on him again. Along with being moody, constantly close to tears and desperate for the baby in his stomach to get out, Charlie was also alarmingly randy, and Severus was resisting all of his charms, refusing to have sex with him.  
  
As soon as he had unlocked the front door, ushered the man in and kicked it shut again, he pressed Severus against the wall and ravaged his lips in a kiss.  
  
“Charlie, what-?” Severus gasped from where he stood flattened, but his expression drooped as Charlie rutted against him, which was not easy, considering the bump in the way. “No,” Severus said firmly. “Not now, Charlie… you’re so close to being well again and I…”  
“Screw my health,” Charlie breathed and plundered his mouth again. “Screw the baby, screw everything, Severus, and fuck me, please, before I actually go mad and you have to commit me to the mental health wards in St. Mungo’s and leave our poor baby with just one parent… please…” he looked up with wide eyes and could have cheered when a solitary curl flopped over his brow at that well-timed moment.  
  
Severus surveyed him with narrowed eyes. “You were in the wrong profession,” the man muttered beneath his breath. “You should have been an actor, Charlie.”  
“Did my performance work?” he asked hopefully, eyebrows rising in question.  
“Sadly I have always been unmoved by theatrical performances,” Severus grimaced and shook his head.  
  
Growling Charlie pushed away and whirled about. “For fuck’s sake, Severus, it’s not rocket science, all I have to do is bend over and you won’t even see the fucking bump.”  
“It’s not about the bump,” Severus said automatically.  
“Then what is it about, hmm?” Charlie felt his temper rising and knew he should calm down, but couldn’t really find the inclination to care. “Because from where I’m standing, Severus, we’ve been at this ‘getting to know you thing’ for months now, taking it slow, where most couples would have fucked by now, and you keep turning me away!”  
  
“Because I don’t want to risk it,” Severus said simply. “You are pregnant, very ill, and I will not be the one to jeopardise your health. _And_ ,” he added quickly when Charlie’s face screwed up in fury to protest, “I’m not willing to jeopardise how far we have come personally, either. You know me, and my issues, and I trust you. Charlie.”  
“Then why won’t you fuck me?” he ground out between his teeth.  
“Because I don’t want to get to a point where we’re having sex, and then something hurts and you need to stop. My brain would compute that as something else entirely and I am not adjustable to…”  
  
“To what?” Charlie asked testily.  
“Heartache,” Severus answered, and turned to disappear into the kitchen.  
  
Left alone Charlie immediately felt foolish for picking a fight with the one man who seemed to understand him, and moaned into his fingers as he dropped his face into them. Running them up into his hair he took a deep breath and stepped forward until he was in the kitchen.  
  
“Sorry, Severus,” he said immediately. “I shouldn’t take this out on you.”  
  
He slouched over and wrapped his arms around the slender man from behind. Severus was standing at the sink looking into the garden, and hand his fingers clenched on the edge of the metal basin. Charlie moulded to the line of his back the best he could, pressing his bump in with care as he rested his chin on Severus’ shoulder.  
  
“Sorry,” he repeated.  
“Nothing to apologise for,” Severus swallowed gently, and turned his face back to place a soft kiss on the tip of Charlie’s nose.  
“When you do that,” Charlie closed his eyes. “It feels like we’ve been doing this for years, like there’s nothing more to do except… well…”  
“Fuck?” Severus asked bluntly, with one raised eyebrow.  
“Yeah,” Charlie felt his face colour. “I wish that we… I wish that you lived here all the time.”  
  
Severus said nothing but Charlie heard his sharp intake of breath.  
  
“But we don’t…”  
“Know each other?” Charlie frowned with a scoff. “Of course we do, Severus! All these late fucking nights, talking the back end off a hippogriff, family pictures… of course we know one another.”  
“I was going for a discussion about love, actually,” Severus whispered, and turned to look back out of the window.  
“Oh,” Charlie fully blushed then, feeling idiotic. “And you need to love someone to live with them?”  
“Don’t you?” the alarm was evident in the man’s voice.  
“Not really…” Charlie shifted his weight between his feet. “See… I often shared at work with people I didn’t know, and unofficially shared with a few partners… I think that learning to live with somebody helps your love define, in a way.”  
“But surely there should be a base line of care before you even get to that stage?”  
“Are you saying you don’t love me then?” Charlie teased with a kiss to his ear. “You can say it, you know, I won’t be heartbroken.”  
  
“I don’t know what I am with you,” Severus admitted, and turned around in Charlie’s arms. “But I’m certainly not going to make any declarations here and now, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”  
“The only declaration I want from you,” Charlie smirked, wrapping his arms around Severus’ slender waist. “Is that you’re going to do something, anything, to bring me to orgasm in the next ten minutes. Or I simply might melt.” His voice was a sultry growl by the end.  
“Melt?” Severus muttered against his lips. “We can’t have that now, can we?”  
“No,” Charlie shook his head with the wide-eyes again, curls flopping. He even went as far as to stick his lower lip out.  
“Merlin’s cock, Weasley, I deserve a medal for resisting you.”  
  
Charlie snorted, and went when Severus pulled him out into the living room and sent him (carefully) careening onto the sofa. Landing on his back with a whoompf of surprise, Charlie only had time to blink before Severus was tugging slightly at his tracksuit bottoms, the only thing he fitted into, and pressed a kiss to the underside of his bump.  
  
“What are you doing?” he moaned, as a tongue licked down the skin of his belly, heading for his groin.   
  
Severus didn’t answer as he nosed through wiry curls and Charlie held his breath, waiting. They had touched each other numerous times, kissed, held, even frotted as much as his bump would allow, but when Severus’ tongue ran up his shaft, the world stopped.  
  
“Ohhh shit,” he threw his head back on the arm of the chair. “I can’t believe you’re…”  
“Shut up,” Severus instructed in a bored drawl, before he sucked the head of Charlie’s cock into his mouth.  
***  
The alarm was loud when it woke him up, and Charlie swore, hating the thing which was about to tear asunder his happy peace. His head was resting on Severus’ shoulder as the man slept, barely flinching at the shrill sound of the alarm, and Charlie groped for his wand to attempt to shut the damned thing up.  
  
When the noise cut he breathed a sigh of relief and reached up to rub the sleep out of his eyes  
  
“Time to get up already?” Severus grunted.  
“’Fraid so,” Charlie moaned, kissing the lightly stubbled jaw. “You know, if you did what I suggested last night and kept a supply of your things here, then you wouldn’t have to run away so early…”  
  
His lips transferred to Severus’ and they kissed good morning, with plenty of tongue. Charlie wasn’t going to deny that he felt remarkably warm and fuzzy as they lay entwined together.  
  
“You might be right,” Severus conceded as they pulled apart, and turned his face to yawn out of Charlie’s.  
“I _am_ right,” he grinned boldly and pecked him on the cheek. “Okay, need the loo. Damned bladder… I used to be able to hold a piss for hours and now…”  
  
He grumbled as he rolled out of the bed to standing, shaking his hair back out of his eyes. He had given up with nightwear and stood completely naked in the weak morning light. Severus watched him with a lazy smirk as he made his way out of the bedroom.  
  
Relieving himself quickly and washing his hands, his reflection in the mirror was pale and drawn. Somehow he had lost weight through his pregnancy, his face thinner than he could ever remember it being, much to the consternation of his mother, and Severus too.  
  
Scowling at the sight of his bump, which he knew he would never appreciate, he looked at his freckled skin and wondered if he would ever feel normal about the sight of it again. He had no idea how he would get rid of the excess skin after the birth, and hadn’t told his family about the work-out plan he had created and planned to begin as soon as he was able. They would all scream about his health. All Charlie knew was that his health would be a hell of a lot better if he could look in the mirror and feel good about himself.  
  
A little gurgle rumbled out of his gut then and he frowned, not feeling hungry. Walking back to the bedroom he found Severus fully dressed and attempting to flatten his hair in the mirror.  
  
“Poser,” Charlie teased as he sank back down onto the bed,  
“Shut up,” Severus muttered, and looked over his shoulder to the redhead behind him. “It kills me to go to work and leave you like that.”  
“What? Fat and naked?” Charlie snorted.  
“I was going for attractive and nude, actually,” Severus gave a tut and stepped away. “But, I have to go, I have an important meeting today.”  
“Good luck,” Charlie accepted the kiss Severus gave him warmly. “I hope it goes well.”  
“Expansion has always terrified me,” Severus made a face as he pulled on his boots.  
“So why are you doing it then?” Charlie tugged the duvet up over his bump.  
“Because,” Severus shrugged. “The money will come in useful if this all goes through.”  
  
Saying nothing Charlie picked at the dry skin of his cuticles.  
  
 _Money you’re just going to give to me. Money I don’t fucking want, Severus_.  
  
“I know what you’re thinking,” Severus snapped at him. “But I will not fall out with you again, Charlie, do you understand me?”  
  
Feeling like a chastened schoolboy, Charlie nodded once and looked away. “Understood.”  
“Good,” Severus’ tone softened and then there came a kiss on Charlie’s brow. “Your plans for the day?”  
“Waiting for you to come back,” Charlie admitted with an embarrassed grin. “Nothing else on the agenda, unless this,” he poked at his belly, “feels like arriving.”  
“It better not,” Severus growled, his dark eyes dropping down to look at Charlie’s stomach. “Not today, the one day I’d really prefer it to stay inside. But I’ll be free after ten.”  
  
They met in a final kiss and Charlie wanted to throw the man on the bed and pin him down so that he couldn’t leave.  
  
“Be careful,” Severus smiled, and then left the bedroom. Charlie heard him pluck his coat from the rack, light a fire in the grate, and then the front door opened and closed.  
  
With a bored sigh he slipped until he lay flat on his back. Inevitably his thoughts drifted back to their conversation the night before, about love. Severus did not yet love him, and they were having a baby together. Charlie hated that he couldn’t think about what that might mean for his baby, only himself. If Severus didn’t love him then he would be hurt, because he sure as anything knew that _he_ was coming to love the sarcastic Slytherin.  
  
It had never been hard for him to fall in love. Everybody he met, he generally liked, and he could jump to love easily. His mother chastised him for that, told him he was too free with his heart and should guard it more closely. But then he had never been one for sobbing break-up woe either.  
  
 _But if Severus were to turn round and say right now that he didn’t want you anymore? What then?_  
  
Charlie made a face at the ceiling and swallowed on a thick throat. How deeply he felt for Severus was written in that alone, and it scared him, but not enough to make him consider pushing the man away. He would never do that, not when he had been such a rock, so helpful through the months of misery he’d lived through. Charlie always reminded himself that Severus had never had to do any of it –Charlie had never asked him to be involved, never asked him for monetary support of any kind. But the man had willingly given it, and it was that which made Charlie believe that, eventually, no matter how much Severus Snape dug his heels in and protested, they would fall in love _together._  
  
That happy thought pushed him further towards sleep and he sighed, glad of the fact, for once, that he didn’t have to get up and go to work.   
  
All of a sudden a ripping pain shot through his gut and he cried out in shock, immobilised by the pain.   
  
_Oh, my fucking fuck… shit._  
  
The pain was identical to the near-miscarriage he’d suffered on the night of Bill’s birthday, but he could taste no blood in his mouth. The pain faded to an ache and he waited, breathing quickly in and out. Just when he thought he might be able to face moving another wave came and he groaned, fisting his fingers into the bed sheets with pain.  
  
“He said no,” Charlie growled pointlessly down at his gut, “He’s busy, and I’m not doing this without him.”  
  
Miraculously, the pain then dulled, and he wondered what kind of mad obedience skills the child in his stomach held. He took a deep breath and pushed the pain away completely. They had told him to go directly to the hospital if he felt any signs of the baby being ready, but Charlie found himself childishly clinging onto the bed sheets as if prying his body from them would signal the end of his life.  
  
Scared, he closed his eyes, willing away the whole sorry situation.  
  
 _It won’t go away…_  
  
His mind was berating him as he desperately tried to ignore reality.  
  
 _This baby has to come out… and once it’s out, it’s out, and you can face this bollocks and move on with your life…  
_  
“What life?” he hissed bitterly to himself.  
 _  
The one with Severus, and the baby, idiot._  
  
“Just want him,” Charlie groaned, well aware that his mad little mental conversation might well get him committed before he went loopy from sexual starvation.  
  
 _And would he stay if you let this baby die? Let it die inside of you and you won’t be around to find out either…_  
  
“Shut up,” he moaned.  
  
***  
But by half past eight, he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He lowered his wand, having just sent a Patronus message to Severus and his mother, asking them to meet him at the hospital, and thrust a handful of powder into the Floo. Taking a deep breath Charlie looked around at his house, it would be the last time that he saw it without a tiny mouth to feed. All of Ron’s effort was just tied up in miserable memories, which Charlie regretted, but didn’t know how to change.  
  
He knew he would never look on his pregnancy with any kind of fondness. When his mother told him he would probably miss stroking his bump, he had laughed. It wasn’t arrogance; he just knew he was right. He would never miss the fat lump attached to his body.  
  
His feet slammed into the grate at the other end of the connection and he steadied himself.  
  
“Sir, are you alright?”  
  
Charlie explained, keeping his voice low, realising that he was in public for the first time in months. People stared and he flushed, the MediWitch led him away to a private room to wait for his team of Healers.  
  
“Please hurry up,” he murmured beneath his breath as he waited, but his wishes were not for the medical professionals.  
  
***  
The miscarriage-esque pains were worsening and Charlie recognised his breaking point.  
  
“We shouldn’t wait any longer; we’re putting the baby in jeopardy.”  
“And me?” Charlie asked in a hiss, through gritted teeth. “Or is the kid all you care about?”  
  
The witch looked at him, affronted, before she coloured and disappeared from the room.   
“Charlie, stop, they’re just trying to-”  
“Do their jobs, I fucking know!” he cried at his mother, who to her credit did not let go of his hand or even move back. “But I want him to be here, and I don’t want to do this alone, Mum.”  
“Sweetheart, you’re not alone, you’ll never be alone,” she looked at him with worried eyes.  
“I mean him,” Charlie closed his own and wished they didn’t have to have the conversation.  
  
“Charlie?” Severus’ voice seemed foggy.  
“Where the fuck have you been?” Charlie moaned, opening his eyes again. “If I had the strength, Severus, I’d fucking smack you in the mouth.”  
“I know,” Severus was pale as he dropped onto the edge of the bed. “I know and I’m sorry. I’m here now?”  
Charlie nodded, scrunching his eyes up to another round of pain. “Oh, fuck, get this out of me, now,” he breathed.   
“I’ll go for the Healer,” Molly said, almost cheerfully, and Charlie found himself wanting to hit her, too.  
  
 _God you’ve really gone to the dogs when you want to clock your own mother one…_  
  
His dry thought made him laugh and when he opened his eyes Severus was looking at him in alarm. “I’m going insane,” he explained. “Don’t worry about me.”  
“I will, if it’s all the same to you,” Severus frowned, and leant down to kiss him.  
  
“This potion will put you to sleep for the duration,” the MediWitch spoke suddenly, Charlie hadn’t heard her re-enter.  
  
Severus helped him gulp it down.   
  
“See you in a bit?” Charlie murmured. “Severus…”  
“What?” the voice was fraught with worry.  
“Are you here for him, or for me?” Charlie was fighting against the drowsiness, wanting to hear the answer before he let go.  
“Oh, Charlie,” Severus groaned. “How many times?”  
“Just say it,” Charlie pleaded. “I need to know…”  
“I am here for _you,_ ” Severus replied in a soft voice, directly into his ear.  
  
***  
Charlie felt lighter. His eyes refused to open and his head felt full of cotton wool, but his body felt light. He ached but his pelvis felt remarkably pleasant compared to the past few months. Managing to shift his hand, he nudged it up over his belly and groped with his fingers. He was shocked to find it completely flat, the skin normal, as though there had never been anything different about it. In fact, as he squeezed the lower half, he realised that they appeared to have taken away some of his extra podge.  
  
Elated, he stroked his own belly and felt happiness building within him, not giving a spare thought to when he had become so vain. Charlie had never been vain in his life, except for possibly about his hair each time his mother cut it off, but to feel his stomach so flat and soft was almost a miracle.  
  
“Charlie?” Severus’ voice called him out of the jubilation. “Are you awake?”  
“No,” he groaned, turning his head and cracking open his eyes.  
“How do you feel?” Cool fingers brushed his forehead and Charlie leaned into the touch.  
“Like I’ve been run over,” he croaked and coughed to clear his throat.  
“It all went fine,” Severus was pale but gave him a smile. “You were strong throughout.”  
“You were there?” Charlie asked in surprised.  
“They offered me the chance to remain, and I took it.”  
“What do my insides look like?” he asked eagerly, eyes widening with fascination.  
“Bloody, for the most part,” Severus rolled his eyes. “What did you think they’d look like?”  
“How would I know, I can’t look inside myself,” Charlie stuck his tongue out, smiling and for once he felt it properly reach his eyes.  
  
“You’re mad, you know that?” Severus asked him after a few moments.  
“Completely,” Charlie grinned, and yawned.  
  
He closed his eyes and shifted his head further into the pillow, and was just falling asleep again when he heard Severus’ incredulous voice.  
  
“Charlie… don’t you want to know about the baby?”  
 _  
Shit, the baby._  
  
The realisation of quite why his stomach was so perfect steamrollered Charlie at that moment, and his eyes flew open in panic. His first thought had not been for his child, but his own appearance. He blushed and blinked away the shamed tears which sprang to his eyes.  
  
“I-Is he alright?”  
“Perfect,” Severus’ voice cracked on the single word, and a dull blush coloured his cheekbones. “Absolutely perfect.”  
  
The man stood up. “Would you like to…?” he gestured wordlessly to a hospital basket which Charlie assumed held his child.  
“Sure, I guess.”  
  
Severus helped him sit and Charlie winced throughout, every muscle protesting, muscles he never knew he had hurting.  
  
“Right,” Charlie was astonished to see the infectious smile on Severus’ face as he reached into the basket and pulled out an impossibly tiny bundle.  
“He didn’t feel that small inside me,” Charlie narrowed his eyes, chewing on his lip.  
  
Severus said nothing, but placed the blankets into his arms. Charlie found himself looking down into a sleeping face.  
  
“Godric,” he muttered.  
“Your nose,” Severus’ happiness was blatant. “And look…” he reached out to stroke the thin layer of dark hair which had formed a tiny curl on the top of the baby’s head. “My colour, your style.”  
“He’s not redheaded,” Charlie breathed in disbelief. “Wow.”  
“Charlie, are you alright?” Severus asked.  
“Fine,” Charlie looked up at him. “What about his eyes, Severus?”  
“Hard to tell for now, but the hospital staff think he’ll follow you. You can see a few golden glints.”  
“He’s lovely,” Charlie smiled at the man, and then down at the sleeping boy in his arms.  
  
 _Lovely, but that’s it._  
  
He had to admit he was disappointed. Though he had battled with the concept and reality of his pregnancy to the last, he had hoped in the darkness of sleepless nights that with the birth of his child there would come a sense of acceptance, of love. But all he could find to say about the baby he held was that it was ‘lovely’.  
  
“He really is,” Severus smiled. His hands instinctively reached out but he pulled back. “Sorry, he’s your son, you should-”  
“No,” Charlie was able to smile again. “You take him, Severus. He’s as much yours as he is mine… my arms ache.”  
  
The man took the baby away from him and Charlie was glad, but he watched them as Severus walked back and forth at the end of the bed, staring down at the tiny face with a serene smile on his own. The picture they painted was so beautiful that Charlie became engrossed with it, looking at the shine on Severus’ hair as it curved behind his ear, the way the ends rested on his shoulders. Thin arms which Charlie was so used to wrapping around his own waist protected the body in the blankets with strength, and Severus’ face was enthralled.  
  
 _He’s mine._  
  
An irrational punch of jealousy hit his wonderfully flat gut and Charlie held back his cry of shock. If there was _one_ thing he had not expected to feel, it was jealousy.  
  
 _I’m jealous of a newborn baby…oh fuck…_  
  
“Your Mum went to get a cup of tea, and alert the rest of the family…”  
“Oh Gods,” Charlie breathed. “We have at maximum half an hour before they turn up, want hugs, want to congratulate us.”  
“And you… you don’t want to be congratulated?” Severus raised an eyebrow, and looked between the baby and Charlie.  
“Not quite,” Charlie said quietly, afraid of what his admission might cause between them.   
  
Severus walked close to the bed and sat down again. He leant forward and kissed Charlie on the lips.  
  
“A bridge we will cross together, remember?” He asked with pleading eyes.  
“Together,” Charlie confirmed, and to at least try, dropped his gaze to the baby again. “Hey, he’s watching.”  
“I never thought I could feel this attached to a child,” Severus shook his head in disbelief. “And it’s only been an hour.”  
“I think you’re feeling what I should be feeling,” Charlie breathed. “And I’m glad, Severus.”  
“Really, there’s nothing?” Severus frowned.  
“I can see he’s gorgeous,” Charlie smiled. “I can see he’s a beautiful baby, and I know that he’s ours. But I can’t… get excited about that fact.”  
“You must be tired,” Severus excused him with a small smile. “I understand.”  
“Do you?” he asked dubiously.  
“I always have,” Severus said firmly, whilst he looked down at their son. “So. Have you thought about a-”  
  
“Oh, you’re awake!” Molly gushed as she re-entered the room, flying to Charlie’s bedside and throwing her arms around his neck. “You’ve done so well, Charlie. How do you feel?”  
  
The question was so pointed Charlie guessed it had to have been planned; he wouldn’t be surprised if his family had been planning their reaction to the birth for weeks.  
  
“Tired, but fine,” he confirmed with a small smile.  
“Do you need me to fetch a Healer to check you over, are you in pain?” she fussed, brushing his curls with her fingers.   
“No, mum, I’m fine,” he assured her again.  
“And so there he is,” she smiled happily. “Your son, my second grandchild, isn’t he beautiful?”  
“He is,” Charlie didn’t have to lie.   
“Looks just like you both,” Molly confirmed. “And in perfect health, too.”  
“His magic?” Charlie asked suddenly, as the thought popped into his head.  
“It was a shame you were asleep,” Severus supplied quietly. “This child has magic enough for three kids, the first aura scan was amazing.”  
  
Charlie swallowed. “Sorry I missed it.”  
“You were rather occupied at the time,” Severus dropped his eyes to Charlie’s stomach. “They’ve magically put that back to rights for you; on account of the rarity of the situation and the impact on your social life you’ve suffered because of the law.”  
“Bit late now,” Charlie shrugged, “Ow.”  
“Here,” Severus handed the baby back and Charlie accepted it because he had no other option. He looked down into the calm face and found it was easy to smile, though he didn’t know why.  
  
He heard his mother burst into tears and felt Severus move from the bed to look down on him.  
  
“Hey,” he whispered his first word to his baby and lifted him higher up his chest. The child felt far too delicate in his muscled arms and he was afraid of squeezing too tight. “I hope you don’t miss it in there because I really couldn’t put you back in if my life depended on it.”  
  
There was a gurgle in reply and eyes locked onto his, and Charlie’s pulse sped up then, truly wondering if the child had heard every bad word he had said about it, known every ounce of resentment he had _felt_ towards it. It was fear that jolted him into his next words –if he couldn’t feel for his baby, couldn’t love it at that moment, the least he could do was name it.  
  
“Oliver,” he said, licking determinedly at his bottom lip. “Oliver Septimus Weasley-Snape.”  
“What?” Severus’ head snapped up.  
“Don’t you… approve?” Charlie looked up nervously.  
“Weasley-Snape?”  
“That’s what he is,” Charlie raised his eyebrows with a tight smile. “Mine and yours.”  
“Septimus for your Grandad?” Molly asked in a soft voice.  
“Yeah, and because… it kind of sounds like Severus, too…” he looked up at the man in question. “What do you think?” he beseeched him. “Say if you hate it. He’s yours, Severus, and you should…”  
“I think it’s perfect,” Severus blinked once. “Oliver.”  
  
“Fits in with the family line of stout, normal names,” Molly beamed at him. “Wonderful choice, Charlie.”  
“He feels like an Oliver,” Charlie said confidently.  
  
There was a knock on the door at that moment, and Severus moved to open it.  
  
“Can we come in?”  
“No, bugger off,” Charlie grinned up at his brothers crowding the doorway.  
  
A collective laugh filled the space and Charlie glanced at Oliver, to see if the noise would upset him, but he merely blinked and looked back at him.  
  
“So this is it then? Spawn of Charlie?” George made it to the bed first.   
“He has a name, George,” Molly scolded.  
“Oh?” George looked at Charlie in surprise. “You’ve been so fucking detached from the whole name game we were convinced you’d just call it baby for three months. I’ve got two galleons riding on it.”  
“Pay up,” Severus rolled his eyes. “And stop swearing around my son.”  
  
George sighed as Charlie passed his nephew to him, and looked into the baby’s face. “Awh.”  
“George?” Charlie breathed.  
“Mm?”  
“Never say ‘awh’ again, it feels like the fabric of the world’s wrong when _you’re_ melting.”  
“He’s cute,” George said defensively. “So, name?”  
“Oliver Septimus,” Charlie and Severus answered as one.  
  
“Nice,” George raised his eyebrows and nodded. “But I’m sorry…”  
“What?” Charlie frowned, watching George step away from the bed.  
“Look at you, little baby Ollie-chops,” George cooed. “Aren’t you gorgeous?”  
“Oh Merlin,” Molly sighed dramatically. “He’s been nicknamed already. Ollie it is. Oliver for when you find him sneaking out to play Quidditch in thunderstorms,” she narrowed her eyes in Charlie’s direction. “Or keeping a litter of Crup puppies beneath his bed.”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Charlie said airily, making a dismissive hand gesture. “There was never any proof that it was me… much proof, anyway.”  
“Oh God,” Severus moaned with a desperate smile.  
“I’m full of warnings for you,” Molly winked and sauntered up to him, putting her arm around his waist.  
  
Charlie couldn’t get used to seeing that, and the heat rose in his face.  
  
“You alright?” Bill asked him quietly.  
“Yeah, it’s just a bit…”  
“Completely fucking weird?” Bill supplied with a supportive squeeze of his hand.  
“Totally,” Charlie let his eyes close.  
  
There was another knock on the door, and that time it revealed Harry, Ginny and Ron.  
  
“Ollie,” George announced, before Charlie could open his mouth, and he sighed.  
“Why did I bother?” he asked Severus with a wry grin. “Should have known they’d just choose their own name.”  
“Ollie suits him,” Severus shrugged. “Like your name suits you… they’re both… happy names.”  
  
“Where’s Draco?” Charlie heard someone ask.  
“He’s not allowed to leave work except for his lunch hour,” Ron explained in a quiet voice. “I’ll bring him by tonight if Charlie doesn’t mind?”  
“What?” Charlie’s voice cut across the room. “I have to stay here? Again? No!”  
  
An uneasy silence blanketed the room and Charlie looked from Severus to his mother. “Why do I have to stay, is there something wrong with me?”  
“It’s just for observation,” Severus sat down on the side of the bed and picked up his hand. “For both you _and_ Ollie.”  
  
 _Even Severus is using it. Fuck._  
  
He was grateful when the man kissed his lips, but then went rigid at the collective gasp in the room. Blood rushed to his face as he realised that, in the heat of everything, they had forgotten their otherwise private relationship, and kissed in front of his entire family for the first time.  
  
“Well,” George said coolly, rubbing his hands together. “Thank fuck for that.”  
  
***  
“I think we’re lucky he’s feeding so well,” Severus commented, from the edge of Charlie’s bed, from where he held the baby in his arms and was feeding him with a bottle.  
“Mm,” Charlie answered tiredly. “I guess so.”  
“Your mother said half of you refused at first, I was worried.”  
“When did she say that?”  
  
“When we were waiting for you to wake up,” Severus looked at him. “And I… she wouldn’t hold him, she wanted you to hold him first. I had no option; they gave him to me the second he left your body.”  
“Good,” Charlie smiled, watching them.  
  
Severus was perfect with their child, it was obvious. Feeding, holding, the few kisses, talking to him –Severus had done everything right, and Charlie was only too happy to let him. He had found, as the afternoon had worn on with his family visiting before they were eventually thrown out by the frustrated Healer attached to his case, that he was happy to pass around Ollie for other people to old.  
  
 _Oliver._  
  
He felt no disappointment to let his little baby go to another set of arms, in fact, it relieved him to pass off the responsibility. Ollie felt far too small and precious to rest in his bulky arms, and seemed far more suited to Severus’ build.  
  
 _Oliver._  
  
“I think he’s sleepy,” Severus cocked his head to the side. “Here.”  
  
Charlie was lying down on his side, watching them both, and Severus placed the baby, now out of his blankets in his first clothes, alongside him. The warmth was sweet, and Charlie looked down into Ollie’s face.  
  
 _Ollie. Bollocks arse and wank. Bloody George.  
_  
“Are you going now?” Charlie had to ask, keeping his voice in check and eyes on the baby so that they couldn’t give him away.  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Severus sighed.  
“What?” Charlie looked up, affronted.  
“I’m not going anywhere, you silly bastard. Do you truly believe that I would leave you alone, in the middle of a place you detest, on your first night on this earth with our child to look after?”  
  
Severus’ eyebrow was raised in question and Charlie smiled. “No.”  
“Well then,” the dark-haired man dropped into the chair by the bed, kicked off his boots and rested his feet on the bed.  
“You look shattered,” Charlie said reprovingly.  
“Not as shattered as you,” Severus groused, tipping his head back onto the seat and closing his eyes.  
  
By the time Charlie opened his mouth to speak again, the man was snoring.  
  
 _Don’t leave me._  
  
Suddenly left alone with his baby for the first time, panic rose in Charlie’s chest. He was tired; it felt like he had spent the entire day in a series of emotional rise and falls, barely staying afloat through the swells. All it would take would be one word and Severus would wake up and help him, but Charlie was torn between his need for independence and his need for someone else to take care of their child.  
  
“What a sorry twat you’ve landed yourself with,” he looked sadly down into the child’s face, but the eyes which looked back at him were bright and unassuming, unhurt. He lowered his face and pressed a kiss to the powdery smelling skin.  
  
If Charlie was anything, he was utterly confused. The actions came easily to him, he could hold Ollie, kiss him, wipe spit away from his mouth –he had even detected the need for a change with just intuition and learning quickly the difference between his baby’s cries.  
  
Looking after his child was easy thus far, but Charlie wasn’t sure why he couldn’t feel for it. Even adding a name hadn’t helped, though he liked it, and if he was honest he liked George’s applied nickname just as much.  
  
 _But it’s not working.  
_  
There was a soft knock on the door then, and it pushed open immediately. “Hey, it’s only us,” Ron said, dropping his voice down when he saw Severus’ sleeping form. “Picked up your ‘jamas, like you asked, and also…” he looked over his shoulder where Draco shut the door. “Dinner!”  
  
“OhmygodIlooooveyou!” Charlie breathed, the scent of the chips reaching his nose. “I hate the food in here.”  
“First things first,” Ron grinned, pulling Draco forward. “Draco, Ollie. Oliver, until my family got to him.”  
“God, he looks like you,” Draco stood back, reserved, and Charlie fixed his eyes on the blond man.  
  
Draco was the first person who hadn’t fawned over him, or his child, and Charlie was happy to see it, someone who wasn’t as natural as everyone else around them seemed to be with babies.  
  
“Mm, so everyone keeps saying,” Charlie eased up with a hiss at the pain in his abdomen.  
“How do you feel?” Draco asked quietly.  
“Shite,” Charlie picked up his food as Ron picked up Ollie, and walked to the window with him, jostling him lightly in his arms. It was then that he realised that his eyes weren’t the only pair following Ron’s movements. Draco’s grey irises were fixated on his brother, and the baby in his arms.  
  
Colour flooded the alabaster cheeks and Draco looked guiltily away, flushing harder when he caught Charlie’s eye.  
  
“Sorry I couldn’t come earlier,” he apologised cordially. “I’m sure Ron explained that my working hours are rigid?”  
“Can’t be skiving off like those with royalties, right?” Charlie chewed on his first chip and nearly groaned with ecstasy at the goodness sliding down his throat.  
“No,” Draco smirked, and looked back to Ron again, who was now watching them both.  
“Want a hold?” Ron nodded at the baby.  
“No, thank you,” Draco shook his head. “Nothing personal,” he assured Charlie. “I’d probably drop him or… make him cry…”  
  
The man’s awkwardness was painful to see and Charlie instantly wanted to make him feel better, but he didn’t know how.   
  
“How’s Severus doing?” Draco changed the subject, looking at his sleeping godfather.  
“Amazing,” Charlie shook his head. “Absolutely fucking amazing, I’d be lost without him. He knows how to feed him, hold him, stop him crying, make him gurgle… he’s a great dad.”  
“Told you,” Draco smiled smugly.  
“He loves to be right,” Ron sidled up to the bed and sat on the end of it. “Well, Char, I’m glad I now have someone to pass on my chess set to.”  
  
“Chess set?” Charlie frowned, sucking his fingers free of salt.  
  
 _Oh, salt… and cheese… and peanuts… oh fuck I can eat what I want! Oh sweet…_  
  
“You alright?” Ron frowned.  
“Yeah, sorry just… freedom…” Charlie shook his head with a dazed grin. “What were you saying?”  
“Yeah I just… Grandad Septimus gave it to you, because you were his favourite, and you gave it to me because I was your favourite…”  
“Ah, good old family favouritism,” Draco smirked and dodged away from Ron’s kick.  
“So, as Ollie has Septimus’ name, I can pass on the chess set to him when he’s old enough and he can learn his games on that, like we did.”  
  
“Ron, that’s…” Charlie had frozen with a chip halfway to his mouth. “You don’t have to…”  
“I want to,” Ron assured him, and leant down to kiss Ollie’s forehead. “He smells like baby.”  
“He is a baby,” Draco frowned.  
“Have you never smelt a baby?” Ron asked sceptically.  
“Sure, I go around sniffing other people’s offspring all the time.”  
  
Huffing, Ron jumped to his feet. “Smell the baby.”  
“What? Don’t be absurd!” Draco backed into a wall.  
“Are you scared?” Ron asked incredulously.  
“I don’t want to sniff a baby, even if it is my godfather’s… my godfather made that… you know, I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Draco’s voice had heightened to the point where only animals might hear him.  
  
Ron laughed but did step away. “He’s lovely, and he might think you hate him.”  
“Please, he’s a baby,” Draco scowled.  
  
“You two are cracked,” Charlie laughed, shaking back his hair and feeling remarkably light inside.  
  
***  
“Okay, yeah,” Charlie breathed, chewing his lip as he laid Ollie down in his basket. “We can do this.”  
  
He wasn’t convinced as his baby’s eyes fluttered shut and he drifted off to sleep. Severus had been right. His child was unbelievably easy. It had been three days and he was perfect, he behaved, he didn’t cry unless he was hungry or needed changing, and he was content to be cuddled by the many loving arms of his extended family.  
  
He felt tired, and his body ached, and he was still spending an inordinate amount of time sitting down, but he could at least get up without having to roll.  
  
Charlie crept backwards out of the tiny room and pulled the door to. A sigh of relief tumbled out of his lips. He had been home for three days but it was the first time he had put Ollie to bed by himself, and he’d been terrified.  
  
 _Dragon Keeper gone soft. They’d be laughing if they could see you now…_  
  
“Asleep?” Severus asked quietly.  
“Asleep,” Charlie turned around and grinned at him, heading for the sofa.  
“And here is your beer,” Severus pointed to the pint waiting on the coffee table.  
  
Charlie stared at it as he fell down on the sofa; saw the cold liquid making the glass damp on the outside in that delicious way he had missed.  
  
“I want to chug that,” he breathed.  
“No,” Severus ruled. “You can only have that because yesterday was your last course of healing potions. But you’re not overdoing it.”  
  
Charlie reached for the glass and took a long pull, revelling in the slightly bitter taste as it flooded his mouth and soothed his hot throat.  
  
“Your first drink in months,” Severus raised an eyebrow. “How does that feel?”  
“Fucking amazing,” Charlie grinned, and set the glass down, but he frowned when Severus laughed. “What?”  
“Too eager,” Severus reached out and wiped his top lip. “Beer moustache.”  
  
Charlie snorted and grabbed the fingers, sucking the foam from their skin. “Waste not…”  
“Alcoholic.”  
“I wish,” Charlie dropped back into the sofa and moaned, looking down at his flat belly   
  
Severus looked at him for a lingering moment, and shifted closer, gliding one hand up his thigh, which had not become as un-toned as Charlie had feared during his pregnancy, and then it fluttered over his crotch.  
  
“Severus?” Charlie asked, surprised.  
“Shh,” Severus massaged up his stomach. “Now, this is the body I remember… or, remembered after I’d searched my mind…”  
  
Cool fingers crept up beneath Charlie’s t-shirt and stroked his belly.  
  
“What are you…?”  
“Shh,” Severus hissed at him with a glare.  
  
Charlie’s pulse sped up as the creeping fingers stroked through his chest hair, and slid across to play first with one nipple, then the other. They both hardened to the touch.  
  
“You are delicious,” Severus muttered, and kissed up his neck to nibble just below his jawline.  
“Are you… oh gods…” Charlie panted as the hand fell from his top and dipped beneath the waistband of his pyjama bottoms to curl around his cock, which he could actually see. “Oh gods… Severus… yes…”  
  
They were kissing then, tongues duelling for dominance and Charlie felt his happiness bubbling in his chest.  
  
“Are we going to…?” he forced his hope into his words and his expression, placing his large hands on Severus’ shoulders. “Please, Severus?”  
“Shh,” Severus admonished again before kissing him. “You talk far too much, Charlie.”  
“Sorry…” he gasped as the man straddled his thighs. “I do…”  
“But I think you’re wonderful for it,” Severus assured him with another kiss. “And I’m so glad that we-”  
  
The sensory charm in place on the nursery suddenly beeped into action and Charlie groaned, his happy mood fading completely.  
“I’ll be back,” Severus kissed him with a fleeting grin. “The joys of parenthood, I suppose?”  
“If you want to call it that,” Charlie said disparagingly, falling forward and rubbing his fingers over his face.  
  
Severus inhaled from his hair, and disappeared from the room. Charlie didn’t have time to mope, there was a tapping on the window and he crossed to it, taking the letter from the owl.  
  
 _‘Dear Charlie,  
  
I know you asked me to hold off for this month, and I was convinced I’d last, but really, I have to confess something to you. Even though we’ve only ever talked through parchment and ink, I think I’m a little bit in love with you, or at least, the idea of you. I would really, really like to meet with you again. I think we have a connection that I’m not willing to pass up. Do you think that would be possible? Please write back, I miss you.  
  
Yours,  
Christian.’  
_  
“Oh fuck,” he breathed, looking down at the parchment. Spikes of excitement were shooting through him thinking on the words that his friend had spoken.  
  
 _How can he be in love with me? That’s fucking mental._  
  
Charlie walked to the fire and threw the note in the flames, watching it burn with bated breath.  
  
“He’d just shifted too much for the sensor, we need to tweak the spell a bit or we’ll be waking up every five seconds,” Severus pulled the door to again, shaking back his hair. “But he’s fine, of course he’s fine… he’s ours.”  
  
A brilliant smile lit up the man’s narrow face and Charlie’s heart sped up even further, fluttering in his chest. The slender figure sauntered towards him, thin feet passing silently over the carpet to stand in front of him.  
  
“Are you alright? You look flushed, Charlie…”  
“Do I?” Charlie wrapped his arms around Severus’ waist, pulling him close.   
“You were smiling,” Severus kissed him. “A nice change.”  
“I’ve been a miserable prick, haven’t I?” Charlie looked up, embarrassed.  
“If you had been,” Severus stroked the small of his back. “It would have been with good reason, Charlie. You were fine, and everybody understood. And it’s just… such a relief to see you looking happy again.”  
  
“Severus?” Charlie whispered quietly, dropping his eyes down to their chests. “There’s still nothing. Still no spark. He’s a baby I’m looking after but I don’t… I don’t love him, not like I should.”  
  
The man said nothing as he pushed Charlie’s face into his shoulder and stroked the nape of his neck. Charlie kissed the tea-scented skin he could reach.  
  
“All I can think about,” he whispered, “Is how we fit together now… how he doesn’t get in the way when I hug you anymore…”  
  
They stood belly-to-belly, perfect pieces of a physical puzzle, and Charlie had never felt more cherished than he did in that pose.  
 _  
And yet you got all excited with those words in the letter… what kind of whore are you?_  
  
“Not all mothers feel a natural connection with their baby immediately,” Severus said softly in his ear. “It takes time for love to build.”  
“And if it doesn’t, if I can’t let this go?”  
“Charlie, I know you’ll let it go,” Severus sighed. “Everybody knows that, but you.”  
“I don’t hate him,” Charlie promised. “He’s lovely, so easy and I don’t…”  
“Shh,” Severus cut him off again.   
  
Charlie let himself be caressed into silence, preferring the feeling of peace in Severus’ arms. to the turmoil of guilt building in his gut.  
  
His perfectly toned gut.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Accidental and unwanted MPreg, Angst, Language, depression

There were times that Charlie might have conceded that a buggy would have been easier. Times such as the current moment, where he had just narrowly avoided swinging his child into a row of baked bean tins, because he’d forgotten, again, that he was wearing the baby sling.  
  
“I am _so_ shite at this, aren’t I?” he breathed down to Ollie, who looked up at him with wide eyes. “Sorry,” Charlie breathed defeatedly, reaching down to stroke his son’s dark hair.  
  
Everything was a challenge with a baby in tow, especially when, as a wizard, he didn’t have a car and he didn’t like apparating with Ollie. Normally he wouldn’t have even attempted food shopping, but they were out of just about everything, his mum was busy and rather than bothering Severus, he had bucked up and decided to try it. He couldn’t avoid normality forever.  
  
As he walked, it was odd to feel Ollie’s warmth against his body, in the sling, and not feel him inside any more.  
  
 _Good, but odd. I can see my feet again… and other bits…  
_  
Charlie couldn’t help his happy smirk as he thought about all the enhanced things he could do without the presence of his bump, and what Severus could do to him. Not that they had done much. Ironically, at that point, he turned into the Muggle pharmacy aisle of the shop and passed their contraceptive options.  
  
 _Oh, very funny._  
  
He was wandering aimlessly by that point to avoid nearing the tills. He wasn’t ready for baby-trolley-carrier-bag juggling just yet. The bus had been bad enough.  
  
“We so need a car until I can apparate you,” Charlie muttered beneath his breath. “I hate the bus, you hate the bus. The bus makes you puke.”  
  
 _And I really hate it when you puke._  
  
Charlie was not good with baby vomit, it transpired. His brothers were ribbing him mercilessly at every opportunity, but he couldn’t stand the smell or the way he could _still_ smell it for hours afterward. Even Severus was starting to mock him. It had been five weeks, and he was overwhelmed by how much he had to learn.  
  
Their child was still perfect, nothing had changed. But every day only seemed harder.  
  
“Do you think the cheese counter has forgotten us yet?” he whispered down to the baby, wrapped so snugly to his body they were almost one again. “Because…” there was a gurgle, almost as if Ollie was telling him to suck it up and go and pay for the food they’d collected. “Great, now I’m getting bloody bossed around by my newborn…”  
  
Grumbling beneath his breath he made his way to the front of the shop, dodging around the people and trying not to let the kamikaze trolley smash into anybody. It was all a new experience. In Romania he grabbed what he could from the tiny local shops in the nearest village, and made do with that. He accepted it was pathetic for a twenty-nine-year-old man to be _afraid_ of a supermarket, but with each visit it never seemed to get any better.  
  
“Oh, just look at that,” a voice rang out of nowhere, which Charlie immediately ignored and carried on pushing on his trolley. “Excuse me?”  
  
He stopped, looking over his shoulder.  
  
“Is that… your baby is so lovely.”  
  
 _Oh, hell no._  
  
In the nights where he had lain awake dreading the birth of his child, he had spent possibly more time dreading the moment which had come upon him.  
  
“Uh, yeah, he’s…” _Alright, doesn’t do much, doesn’t say much and is generally a sap on all my resources.  
_  
Mentally slapping himself for being so cold, Charlie forced a smile onto his face for the woman, who wasn’t far off his mother’s age, and shifted his shoulders slightly so that Ollie’s face could be more easily seen in the sling.  
  
“You’re brave using one of these,” she commented, inclining her head towards him. “I always thought they might be a tad… claustrophobic.”  
“He screams in anything else,” Charlie lied. **_I_** _want to scream using anything else._  
  
It surprised him, and quietly surprised Severus, too, that so unattached to his child, Charlie could bear to carry it so closely to his body when they needed to go out and about. He liked the extra warmth, and the way he could tell quickly that his son was okay.  
  
 _And there’s no chance of you becoming an evil pavement hogger with your monstrously sized devil-buggy.  
_  
George’s voice crept into his head and Charlie had to bite on his tongue to stop himself from chuckling aloud.  
  
“What’s his name?” she cooed into Ollie’s face, and Charlie was proud to see his son looked completely unimpressed.  
“Oliver,” Charlie reached to wipe some spit from the tiny lips.  
“Oh, lovely!”  
  
 _Why is everything lovely when it’s somebody else’s baby? Don’t these people remember the pain? Or… anything bad about pregnancy?_  
  
“So, is he yours, or are you babysitting?” the woman asked, her eyes trailing over his shopping trolley.  
“He’s mine,” Charlie confirmed, wondering why having a child suddenly meant that people expected him to be content in spilling his life story to a stranger in the middle of a supermarket.  
“You look far too young to have your own baby,” the woman replied instantly. “Much, much too young.”  
  
Charlie raised his eyebrows and fought back his sarcastic comment. He looked anything but young –he was pale beneath his freckles, with dark circles beneath his eyes that no matter how much sleep he got, he couldn’t get rid of, and he had lost even more weight. He looked, in his opinion, haggard.  
  
“Well I’ll let you get on sweetie,” she smiled, and turned away, leaving Charlie fairly steamrollered next to the cat litter.  
  
“I hate people,” he breathed down to Ollie, his chest tight with the undulating self-dislike which had poured into him the second she had mentioned how he looked. “Come on…” he looked resolutely at the tills. “We can do this.”  
  
***  
After a slight mishap with a bottle of milk, they had made it home. Once more Charlie smelt of sick because of Ollie’s reaction to the Muggle bus, and they were both tired and increasingly ratty, both with each other and with the thought of everyone else.  
  
“It’s alright for them,” Charlie fumed, as he spell-cleaned his hair again. “Fucking working all day and I’m here because I need to ‘rest’.”  
  
That had been the cause of the one argument he and Severus had had since Ollie’s arrival. Charlie had been determined, once the initial physical issues had faded, that he was getting out and about. His intention had been to run, to look for work, to instantly try and fix all the things that he could do nothing about whilst he was pregnant.   
  
Severus had other ideas, and so did his mum, and so did Ron, and just about everybody Charlie wanted to find to argue about the subject with. He knew he had been foolish not to guess that they would have demanded a say in his aftercare. Severus had been furious at his planned running schedule. But Charlie had a fonder memory from the exchange than he would admit.  
 _  
“You look bloody perfect as you are, now stop being ridiculous!”_  
  
Even then, grumpy and annoyed as he was, Charlie couldn’t stop his smile at the way the silky voice floated through his mind.  
  
Just then a cry heralded the awakening of his baby and he sighed, lowering his wand and taking a dubious sniff at his hair. It still smelt of sick. Groaning he pocketed the stick of wood (in his usual trademark ripped jeans –being a parent hadn’t improved his dress sense, much to his mother’s disappointment) and crossed into the living room.  
  
He enjoyed the peace of his baby’s afternoon naps more than at any other time in the day. When Ollie woke up he was sleepy, warm, hungry, and generally at his most amenable. Charlie picked him up, offering a smile to try and tease one back out, which half-worked.  
  
“Hey, smiley child,” he sighed, lifting him to his body. “How about we go and see your Dad after this? Go and surprise him at work?”  
  
A gurgle answered in what Charlie assumed was the affirmative. Ollie loved Severus, that much was obvious. “I might get a complex if you keep this up, you know, I bet you’re never as enthusiastic when someone wants to bring you back to _me_.”  
 _  
And I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest._  
  
***  
Diagon Alley was full of surprising April sunshine, and was thick with shoppers for it. Charlie was doing just fine, however, without a trolley to contend with; Ollie was nestled against his chest, dozing and blearily looking at what passed him by. He reminded Charlie very much of a baby dragon, minus the random shoots of uncontrolled fire.  
  
 _We could swap those for puke, or crap…_  
  
“Shall we go and see Uncle George first?” he caught sight of the garish front of Wheezes. “We all know how much he loves you.”  
  
George did. But then they _all_ did. Charlie was convinced they were going to give his child some kind of cuddling fetish. When they were all together his child’s back never laid flat in anything that wasn’t a pair of loving arms. Charlie was grateful, though. Pushing open the door he noticed his son’s eyes widen at the sound of the tinkling bell.  
  
He didn’t mind that side of it. Again it was like a tiny dragon, watching them find their feet, realise what sounds and objects were, what food was. That part was fascinating, and it was the only way that he felt able to bond with Ollie, for the most part.  
  
“I brought you a visit from your favourite nephew,” Charlie announced, seeing George bent over in a box of daydream charms.  
“Well, there’s my day better,” George brushed off his hands and reached to extricate Ollie from Charlie’s body. “Hey, little dude. What have you been up to today?”  
“Slept, went to the supermarket and slept some more,” Charlie rolled his eyes, reaching out to straighten some stock on a nearby shelf.  
“So you went on the bus?” George made a face. “Did he-?”  
“Oh yeah,” Charlie confirmed, making a disgusted face. “Big time.”  
“Did he hit anybody on the back of the head?” George asked eagerly.  
“Nope, sadly not today,” Charlie breathed sarcastically, cringing at the memory.  
  
“I swear, he’s got talent,” George laughed, jostling Ollie in his arms. “Why’re you in the Alley? You hate people and shopping.”  
“Thought we’d surprise Severus and say hello,” Charlie smiled, pushing a moved stand back into position.  
“Do you find my shop messy?” George raised an eyebrow.  
“Oh, what?” Charlie jumped, realising what he was doing. “Sorry, George.”  
“Fuck no, do it, means I don’t have to employ someone else,” he laughed. “It’s been a bit lonely since Chastity left though.”  
“I thought Ron was helping out?”  
“He does. I can’t get rid of him. But he has to work as an Auror too and two jobs…”  
“Overworks himself,” Charlie huffed.  
  
George nodded, looking down into Ollie’s face. “His eyes have changed again.”  
“They have not,” Charlie dismissed.  
“Gets more like you every day,” George told him.  
  
“Come on,” Charlie sighed, holding out his arms. “We should keep moving unless I want to find myself buried in the stock room.”  
“Clever,” George snorted, and handed the baby back.  
  
Charlie settled the baby before rolling his neck, thankful of all his muscles making the sling easy on his posture.  
  
“Are you alright, George?” he asked finally, looking up and catching a sad expression.  
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Just gotta roll with it, haven’t I? Nearly three years and nothing’s easier.”  
  
Charlie made to hug him but Ollie got in the way. “Dammit.”  
“Good,” George wrinkled his nose. “You hug everyone these days. Last Sunday you hugged Ron for passing you a glass from the cupboard.”  
“I bloody did not,” Charlie muttered bitterly, and moved to the door of the shop.  
“Get out,” George sniggered, turning away. “You big girl.”  
  
Out in the sunshine Charlie was still affronted. He had no other way to show his gratitude for the things his family had done for him, and were still doing for him. But even he had to admit he was hugging an awful lot more than he ever had before.  
  
He turned off the Alley, into a shaded lane which led to the bigger one where Severus’ shop resided. Dodging a tiny little café with the tables and chairs outside, he passed a second-hand bookshop, eyes sliding over the front as he passed.  
  
“Charlie?” The Australian voice called out to him, and he froze, looking back at the door.  
  
The blonde hair, handsome face and lithe, athletic body was exactly the same as the last time he’d seen Christian in the lights of the club. His own body had been through such a transformation since then, but Christian’s was exactly the same.  
  
 _Lucky bastard._  
  
“Hey,” he smiled nervously, wondering what he should do. Ollie was strapped very obviously across his chest, and he had said nothing in his letters.  
  
He didn’t see why he should. At first they were just friends, and only over the past month, after Christian’s bizarre declaration of love, had their letters descended to a more intimate level. But essentially, he had lied, withheld the truth –however he wanted to hash it, the man in front of him had fallen for him without any idea of the baggage Charlie came with.  
 _  
I’ve never come with baggage in my life…_ a throb of regret forced into his chest, where Ollie cuddled, and Charlie felt disgusting.  
  
“Who’s this?” Christian took a step closer, bending to look into Ollie’s face.  
“We need to talk, I think,” Charlie finally said, softly, and looked away.  
  
  
  
Five minutes later, sitting in the café he had just passed, Charlie found himself staring at his cup of coffee wondering what on earth to say.  
  
“It’s so good to finally see you again,” Christian’s eyes raked over his form and he shifted in his seat.  
“Yeah, it is,” he smiled up at him, seeing the intense gaze. “It’s been too long.”  
“I didn’t want to push you, it seemed that things were… things were complicated for you.”  
“I was really unwell,” Charlie explained, picking up his spoon and beginning to play with the metal. Ollie was still swaddled to his chest.  
“Writing to you has been great, Charlie,” the Australian grinned, his accent elongating the name in a way which made Charlie shiver.  
  
“Did you have a good time back home?” Charlie asked, hoping to prolong the inevitable.  
  
He listened as the blond began to talk about his trip back to his homeland, which he had written to Charlie about before he left.  
  
“It was good to see my mum and dad again, it’s been a while… what about you, Charlie? Do your mum and dad live near you?”  
“They do,” Charlie nodded. “Actually, next door, which is probably a bit too close for comfort for most people but… when I was ill, it was a really big help.”  
  
He knew he should feel terrible, referring to the baby strapped to his chest as an ‘illness’, but he was scared of telling the truth. _That_ made him feel terrible. He had never been ‘scared’ of anything before his pregnancy. At least, scared of nothing that he couldn’t conquer.  
  
“So…”  
  
The ‘so’ was the precursor to what seemed like hundreds of personal questions spilling from Christian’s lips, the kind that they had avoided asking in letters, when the boundaries were set, and they abided by them. In person it seemed that the walls had been razed, and Charlie found he didn’t mind answering any of Christian’s questions, and even asked some of his own.  
  
“Would you like another cup of tea?” Christian asked finally, realising they were both empty. “Or did you have somewhere to be when I caught you?”  
“I was on my way somewhere,” Charlie nodded, his eyes sliding to the clock and seeing, with surprise, that he had been sitting in the tiny café with the man for nearly two hours. He glanced down at Ollie, who was cuddled into his chest, snuffling slightly, but who otherwise had been an absolute angel.  
  
A guilty pang rocked his stomach and Charlie flinched.  
  
“Okay, so… Charlie. I don’t think this is being forward,” the voice softened and he braced himself. “Do you think we could do this again? Do you think that…” Charlie’s heart sped up as a hand settled over his. “We could move on to something more?”  
  
His mouth went dry whilst Charlie struggled for an answer, and whether by fate or luck, Ollie chose that moment to let out a wail, and tears built in his baby’s eyes.  
  
“Shh, sweet,” he murmured, ducking his head and pressing his lips to the dark hair, before he realised quite who he sat with.  
  
Looking up, the blue eyes were wide, and Charlie blushed.  
  
“You’re not telling me the truth, are you?” Christian asked perceptively, his eyes flicking between Ollie and Charlie’s faces.  
“No,” Charlie shook his head. “I wasn’t ill.”  
“No?” the Australian’s body had tensed, and Charlie swallowed.  
“No,” he lowered his voice. “I was pregnant. With Ollie,” he gestured to the baby on his front. “Sorry.”  
  
“He’s yours?” the shock was plain to hear, but the coldness Charlie had not expected.  
“Mine.”  
  
His face fell as Christian simply got to his feet and walked out of the café. The door closed with a clatter and his jaw dropped slightly, staring in horror after the departed man. He hadn’t expected the dramatic response –he thought he would have to explain himself, and his deceit, but he hadn’t thought that the kind, caring man he had written to for half a year would run away.  
  
“Well,” Charlie dropped his eyes to Ollie’s head. “I guess that’s that, isn’t it?”   
  
A soft snuffle was his reply, and then Charlie remembered the cry. “What’s up?” he focused on the baby’s needs, rather than paying attention to his own, even though it felt like his stomach had been shredded.  
  
All of his worst fears had been proved right, the fears he had suffered before Severus had asked to be involved. The fears that no man would willingly enter into a relationship with him if they knew he came with extra added child, and he would be alone.  
  
 _But you’re not alone, you twat. You have Severus._  
  
Which was the truth. He moved back his chair and got to his feet, unnecessarily balancing Ollie with his hands, and headed for the door. Stepping back out into the April sunshine, he wondered why, then, he still felt so disappointed.  
  
 _If Severus ever leaves you, then you’re alone. That’s it, finished. Not every man would be like that but… fuck._  
  
For the first time in five weeks, Charlie felt his eyes fill with frustrated tears, and he furiously blinked them away, refusing to break when he no longer had a legitimate reason. All of the feelings which had nearly pushed him to tears he had locked away, ignoring them even though he knew it wasn’t healthy. But he refused to lose himself again, just when he had begun to get some semblance of himself _back._  
  
His feet were carrying him to Severus’ shop, but Charlie wasn’t paying the blindest bit of attention. He was lost in his thoughts, both hands clamped protectively over the sling with Ollie inside it, and it was as if he wasn’t actually a part of his body; like his soul had severed from his being.  
  
The feeling was odd, surreal, but not wholly unpleasant. He was just numb, starting in his chest and spreading outward, engulfing the rest of him until he was at the door of the shop, looking at it with disinterested eyes. Reaching out one hand he pushed it open, and did not stop to notice Ollie’s reaction to the bell which rang out to herald his entry.  
  
Severus was talking to a customer over the till, and Charlie noticed that the dark-haired man didn’t even look up at him as he neared the end of the shop. _Unnoticed, even by Severus._ He continued past the till, and heard his name called, but he ignored it, ducking into the back rooms without a word. Looking at the choice of three doors he didn’t care which he picked, and just let his feet carry him to the brewing room, he recognised it immediately by smell. There were no fires burning, no cauldrons bubbling, and he sat randomly down on a stool and waited, not tearing his hands from the sling or looking anywhere other than the floor.  
  
What he felt wasn’t normal. But it was at least preferable. All the tension which had built up in him since the birth, the tension of worrying about his son, about his relationship with Severus, about his life and ruined career was miraculously gone. Severus had not instantly followed him and Charlie listened to the silence of the brewing room, breathing in the herby scent which he so usually pulled from Severus –off his skin, off his clothes, his hair.  
  
Losing himself in the darkness of the tresses he had stroked so often, Charlie let his shoulders slump, dropping his chin to rest on his chest, near Ollie’s head. The baby was awake and looking at him, his expression blank.  
  
“Charlie?” Severus’ voice was curious as he stepped into the room. “This is a surprise; I thought you were okay with him today?”  
  
Charlie nodded morosely, his curls quivering as he did it. He offered no verbal answer, and didn’t raise his eyes from the floor. He wasn’t being deliberately rude or obtuse; he just found that he didn’t have the energy.  
  
“What’s happened? Is something wrong with Ollie?” Severus asked.  
  
That spiked pain through Charlie’s chest. “Is he all you care about, Severus?” he whispered, unable to raise his voice any higher.  
“What?” the voice was sharp, the tension between them rose.  
“It’s always him,” Charlie shrugged. “But he’s fine. I think it’s… me… that has a problem.”  
  
Severus crouched down in front of him then, putting a hand a piece on Charlie’s knees, looking anxiously up into his eyes. “Charlie, what’s going on?”  
“I don’t think that I’m… right,” Charlie struggled to select the right word; the numbness might feel nice, but the effect it was having on his speech wasn’t fun.  
  
 _So just shut up, what could be fucking easier?_  
  
“Charlie, I don’t think you’re very well,” Severus rose, his palms sliding up over the denim-covered thighs, coming to a rest on Charlie’s hips. “Tell me what happened?”  
“Nothing happened,” Charlie breathed, shaking his head –he couldn’t tell Severus the truth about Christian. He had decided that long ago. Severus was far too fragile to hear that a man he was falling in love with had been in correspondence with a ‘friend’ who had proclaimed to love him. Even if that friend had since changed his mind. “Oh.”  
  
“Oh what?” Severus narrowed his eyes.  
“Nothing,” Charlie insisted, though his mind was swimming. _I’ve just lost my safety net._  
“Okay, enough,” Severus pulled back and whipped his wand out of his sleeve. “I’ve been waiting for this.”  
“Waiting for what?” Charlie asked, his brow only furrowing with the slightest of creases.  
  
He watched as Severus closed his eyes and muttered something. A glittering animal fell from the end of his wand and looked at the dark-haired man. A doe.  
  
 _So he doesn’t love me enough for his Patronus to change._  
  
Charlie heard his own gasp but Severus spoke over it as he programmed the animal with a message and sent it off. He had assumed that deep down Severus did love him; the man had simply never said it.  
  
“Come on,” he then turned to Charlie, “We’re going home.”  
  
Charlie went at the tug on his hand, getting to his feet with very little effort, and Severus pulled him tightly into his arms, the baby between them. Up close he could see the worry in the onyx eyes and blinked slowly back at them, trying to convey a message -that he was fine, just lost for a while.  
  
“Whatever this is, don’t,” Severus said suddenly, and his eyes hardened. “If this is you giving up, on us, on you… don’t.”  
“I’m not,” Charlie promised. “I’m just having a bad day.”  
  
Severus pulled away again and took his hand, taking him gently into the front of the shop. He used magic to turn the sign over and lock the door, and sent down the blinds. “We’ll use the Floo,” he instructed, throwing powder into the flames he conjured. “You first. Give me Ollie.”  
  
Charlie found it was easy to follow the instructions as he removed the sling and handed over the baby. Being told what to do, in comparison to having to make every painstaking decision from what to feed his child that day to how to function normally again, was marvellous. He felt free.  
  
Travelling home, even the whoosh and rough edges of the Floo couldn’t jolt him from his funk; he stepped into his house to feel hands landing on his upper arms.  
  
“It’s only me,” Ron’s voice was low, soothing, and Charlie let himself be directed onto the sofa.  
“What are you doing here?” he breathed.  
“Severus messaged me,” Ron explained, perching next to him. “It was my day to be on the-”  
“Ron, I haven’t told him,” Severus said, exiting the fire, clutching Ollie, and dumping far too much soot on the rug as he stepped off the fire. “I don’t think that he can…”  
“What are you bastards keeping from me now?” Charlie deflated. There was no real conviction in his words.  
“When you gave birth,” Ron began awkwardly. “And you were so… everyone thought you would freak out.”  
“I _was_ freaking out,” Charlie supplied.  
“Well we were worried, so we worked out between us who could be called on which days of the week if you were…”  
“If I went loopy,” Charlie nodded morosely.  
“Today was my day…” Ron reached out and picked up Charlie’s hand. “What happened?”  
“Nothing happened,” he repeated. “I just… went to the supermarket, and it was odd, and saw George… went for a walk and I just got a bit… down.”  
“Okay,” Ron said immediately. “Will you do something for me?”  
“Anything you want,” Charlie turned his face to Ron’s and gave him a grim smile of acceptance.  
“Drink this,” Ron pleaded immediately, tugging a vial out of his pocket.  
“Sure,” Charlie shrugged.  
  
He knew what it was, the anti-depression potions he had denied at the first offering from the hospital during his pregnancy, and had then been forced to take after his miscarriage. They worked. They would take the numbness away. But nobody other than himself was happy with his state of bliss.  
  
The potion tasted sweet on his tongue and he swallowed, closing his eyes so that their stares couldn’t bore into him any more. He knew he had roughly half an hour before the potion took up hold in his blood stream.  
  
“Thanks,” Ron said softly. “Charlie, you know we just care about you, right?”  
“And the baby,” he muttered bitterly.  
“And Ollie too, but you were here for twenty-nine years first.”  
“Whatever,” Charlie shrugged. “Can I go to bed now?”  
“Not just yet,” Severus ruled, and handed Ollie over to Ron. “You need to wait a few minutes and have a drink.”  
“I’m fine,” Charlie groaned. “And if I’m not, who cares? I’ll be fine in the morning.”  
  
There was a snort from Ron, Charlie saw Severus sharply look at him, his face a mask of distaste.  
  
“That’s such a Charlie thing to say,” Ron shook his head, leaning back. “He might look doped up, Severus, but I think he’s closer to being his normal self than I’ve seen him a while… blunt, funny when he’s not trying to be…”  
“See, Ron’s on my side,” Charlie shot him a grateful smile. “Is Ollie alright?”  
“He’s just fine,” Ron bounced him closer. “Cuddle?”  
  
“No,” Charlie shook his head. “Sorry,” he added, because he knew everybody was frustrated with his detachment.   
“Have you ever cuddled him, just because?” Ron asked, his temper flaring even though his tone was even; it was obvious to Charlie, who knew him so well. “Have you just _tried_ , Charlie?”  
“No,” he answered simply. “I hold him when I have to. Severus cuddles.”  
“Well, tough shit,” Ron said decisively, and before Charlie could resist, his brother had dumped his son into his arms. “We’ll be in the kitchen.”  
  
Severus moved, surprisingly, when Ron jabbed his head at the doorway, and Charlie was left alone with his baby frogged on his chest. He looked down at the tiny face and immediately felt, as always, guilty.  
  
“Not your fault,” he murmured. “Nobody asked you to ruin my life, I know that.” He tightened his arms and dropped his chin, kissing the top of the thin dark hair. “I wish I could stop blaming you for it though.”  
  
He rocked slightly to make up for the horrendous words, wishing he could just snap out of it. There was no fault of his child’s, and Charlie had no right in being angry at him. He was innocent and didn’t deserve the weight of the responsibility.  
  
Between them warmth thrummed with his own life force and the one he had created, and Charlie couldn’t deny that to sit and feel it was pleasant. He inhaled slightly, smelling the powdery scent which he now only associated with his son’s skin, and looked carefully at the fine strands of hair. There wasn’t one imperfection –his son was perfect, but he himself was falling far short of the mark.  
  
“I never wanted to be your Dad,” he whispered aloud, chest filling with pain. “Ever. Not at one point have I wanted this, wanted you. You’re here, but I don’t want you. I hate myself for that.”  
  
Ollie shifted slightly on his chest, pressing his head into the crook of Charlie’s neck, and he snuffled against his skin. The action tickled, and the sound was the type to make his mother and sister squeal. Even _he_ felt a spike in the warmth he held for the tiny being on his chest.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, pressing a kiss where he could.  
  
“Charlie?” Ron’s voice cut through what he then realised had become a thick fog of emotion, and he blinked himself out of it. “Drink this,” Ron said coolly. “I’ll put Ollie down for you and get back to work.”  
  
“No,” Charlie shook his head, accepting the glass. “I’m… fine here for the minute.”  
“The potion will make you drowsy-”  
“Then when I fall asleep Severus, his father, can put him down,” Charlie looked up and took a gulp of the water. “I get this is like your dream come true, and you think I’m wasting precious moments of my baby’s life by ignoring it because I can’t cope with it,” he snapped, the words flowing out of his mouth without any prompting of his own. “I get it, Ron. You think the baby is great. But I don’t need your sanctimonious shit-”  
“Charlie, shut up.”  
  
Severus’ voice was harsh and ringing, Charlie flew back to a dark dungeon and Potions lessons as he heard the rebuke. Colour flooded his cheeks and he lowered his eyes.  
  
“I think you should apologise for that,” Severus said calmly. “You have no right to take this out on other people, especially not people who care about you.”  
  
 _He’s turning into Mum. Always fucking right._  
  
“Sorry,” Charlie muttered, fully expecting to hear a reprimanding ‘like you mean it’ from Severus.  
  
But there was nothing more from him. Ron cleared his throat and said. “Thanks, Charlie. I’ll see you at the weekend, yeah? For Quidditch?”  
“Sure,” Charlie nodded. “Be there with bells on. Or maybe baby sick.”  
  
Ron let out a laughing breath of relief and departed through the Floo.  
  
“We heard what you were saying to him,” Severus said immediately, sitting down next to him. “You weren’t being particularly quiet.”  
“Oh,” Charlie looked guiltily down at Ollie. “Fuck.”  
“I’m glad you said it,” Severus said, his voice still cool. “Because, Charlie, if you keep this all inside much longer, you really will hit rock bottom. Have you ever been to rock bottom before?”  
“No,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes away from the blazing onyx staring at him.  
“I have. It’s not pleasant. It will ruin you before you get the chance to put it all back together, and when you do, Charlie –people can say what they like about re-growth, and such a trauma making you a ‘better person’, and maybe it’s true. But you never return quite the same as when you left.”  
“And you’d know?” Charlie felt anger heating his face.  
“I know,” Severus nodded curtly. “And I’m telling you, that if you want to keep everything you’ve worked for, all the memories you have of yourself being a strong person, a happy person, loved –whatever you hold most dear, Charlie, you will fight whatever’s tugging at your mind.”  
  
“But it feels so good,” he groaned, closing his eyes and holding Ollie a little closer. “It feels so good not to have to think, Severus. Not to have to choose anything.”  
“I can well imagine it does,” the man reached out and brushed some hair away from Charlie’s eye. “But it won’t last. Not for long. Soon it’ll become normality, not the holiday it is today.”  
  
Silence fell between them and Charlie could feel the potion beginning to pull at his system, lightening the numbness to the point where he knew he would have to cling onto it in another few minutes, if he wanted to keep it. Ollie was still sprawled on his chest, making a soft contented sound.  
  
“What triggered this?” Severus asked quietly, leaning closer. “Because I know a ‘walk’ wouldn’t have done this to you, Charlie. You love walking.”  
“I…” Charlie didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to lie to Severus, the man who had given everything, picked him up from the dregs more times than he cared to remember over the course of his pregnancy. He was Severus, and Charlie didn’t have the heart to lie to him. “I saw a friend, between George’s and yours…” his voice cracked. “And when I admitted that Ollie was mine, he got up and left.” Not the whole truth, but not a lie.  
  
The razor blade edge of difference should not have eased his conscience like it did.  
  
“Because he was shocked?”  
“Disgusted, I think,” Charlie swallowed. “Maybe both. But it just… it felt like everything I worried about had been true. Nobody would want me with this baggage attached, because I was so…”  
  
He trailed off and Severus remained quiet, letting him gather the courage to finish.  
  
“So different. I can’t be who I was, Severus. I was the guy who would take his little brother out and get him completely rat-arsed. I was the one who always, always had a space on his floor for someone who needed to sleep on it, no matter if they were drunk, high, depressed, whatever. I did it. I was always there for my friends. And I was the bloke who fucking subdued dragons with the touch of my hands. I was cool,” he muttered. “And now I’m not. Now, my hair smells of baby sick, and I don’t… if I’d asked for it, I wouldn’t mope, Severus.”  
“But you didn’t ask for this,” Severus sighed.  
  
Shaking his head, Charlie looked down at Ollie. “You don’t have to judge me, Severus, I know what I said to him was wrong, as his father I shouldn’t feel that way.”  
“I am not judging you,” the coolness was back. “I promised you, Charlie, that I would never do that. I never promised not to tell you, however, when I thought you were pushing too far in the wrong direction, or to tell you when you’d gone too far.”  
“No,” Charlie nodded sullenly. “You’re right.”  
  
“I don’t know how else to help you,” Severus murmured. “I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know people, I don’t know relationships… and neither of us know anything about raising a child.”  
“I know that speed bumps make him throw up more on the bus,” Charlie said wearily.  
“Noted,” Severus groaned, massaging his fingers deep into his forehead. “Tired yet?”  
“Yeah,” Charlie nodded, his eyes drooping.  
“Then you should go and lie down,” Severus reached out and pried Ollie from Charlie’s body.   
  
_Oh…_  
  
Charlie watched his baby leave his personal space and realised that, once again, he truly would have been happy for him to have stayed put. His chest felt cold and the air less comforting without the scent of Ollie in it.  
  
 _So that’s what they all mean. Weird._  
  
“Charlie?” Severus asked him.  
“Mmm?”  
“Go to bed,” Severus nodded at the bedroom.  
“Come with me?” Charlie asked suddenly, realising that at that moment, the last thing he wanted was to be alone. He wanted to feel the heat of Severus’ body creeping into his bones as they lay together.   
“If that’s what you want?” Severus surveyed him.  
“I want,” Charlie mumbled sleepy, staggering to his feet and stretching his arms up above his head so that every muscle in his back elongated. He let out a growling groan as he dropped them, and shivered. “Come on.”   
  
He turned and extended his hand out to Severus, who immediately took it, and let Charlie pull him to standing.  
  
“It feels so weird doin’ that,” Charlie slurred, the potion most definitely making him drowsy as he spoke. “Pullin’ you up… not having to be carted around every where… so good, Severus…”  
  
He was toeing out of his boots, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down his legs, kicking them off clumsily as he stumbled towards his bed. Severus had dropped his hand to go and settle Ollie and he took the moment of solitude –when he was confident it would not be long- to rub his hands over his face and mutter into them, beneath his breath, “You have everythin’ you need. You don’t need a safety net. He loves you. Even if he won’t say it.”  
  
“Say what?” Severus entered the bedroom and stripped off his work robes.  
“Nothin’” Charlie smiled sleepily, climbing beneath the duvet.  
“Shall I pull the curtains?”  
“Nah,” Charlie was already half asleep, nuzzling into his pillow. “Only if you want.”  
“I’m not likely to sleep,” Severus slid in next to him and immediately wrapped himself around Charlie’s body.  
“Then why’re you comin’ to bed, silly…” Charlie turned and buried his neck into Severus’ neck like Ollie had done to him, wondering if the man liked it as much as he had.  
  
Long, thin fingers curled into his hair and stroked. “Because of you, Charlie.”  
  
There was no disdain, no anger, no exasperation –only true warmth. It made the disappearing numbness more bearable, Charlie realised, to have it replaced with that.  
  
***  
When he woke again, the bedroom was darkening, and Charlie had the immediate need for the toilet. He rolled out from beneath the duvet, shivering in the coolness of the room, and yawned. He turned to look back at Severus, who, against his own prediction, was asleep, his dark hair a slick across the pillow, his expression completely at peace.   
  
With something to smile about, Charlie made his way to the bathroom, scratching various itches and enjoying the sensation. It felt so odd to be able to walk and have nothing ache. His spine, his legs, ankles and chest all felt normal, if he could remember what normal felt like. He actually had to concede, as he relieved himself, that it was the first time he had woken up in five weeks and not been filled with dread at what was waiting for him. Severus was there. And he wasn’t leaving.  
  
Charlie wasn’t going to let him leave.  
  
Humming he washed his hands in the sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes widened as he took in the new pallor of his skin, slightly rosier, his amber-brown eyes were brighter. Stepping back out to head back to the man he undoubtedly loved, Charlie froze, and turned to look at the door to the tiny nursery that they had added to the house on Ollie’s arrival. Creeping to the door, he pushed it open, and was glad that he could see from his position his son sleeping peacefully, with an expression almost identical to Severus’.  
 _  
Oh, now… fuck._  
  
Charlie reached up and rubbed his hand over his chest as his heart thumped a little harder, seeing their child look so much like one of them, and he backed out of the room, completely confused. One sleep had apparently changed an awful lot, and having become cynical in his pregnancy, Charlie didn’t trust it. He frowned at the floor as he padded back to the bedroom, and found Severus where he had been left. Tiny snores escaped the man’s parted lips.  
  
It wasn’t hard for Charlie to smile again. He clambered back onto the bed, rocking it with his clumsiness, and settled beneath the duvet, twisted so that he could watch Severus sleep. Extending one hand he touched it to the hot skin of Severus’ belly, and stroked there, feeling the thin line of hair which led down to his groin. It was there that his fingers trailed to next, spreading onto the fabric of the underwear that hid away the parts of Severus had Charlie still did not know intimately.  
  
With the baby out of his stomach the need for constant sexual stimulation had disappeared –it was possibly the only thing Charlie missed, and the way that Severus would give him what he needed with such tenderness. Tenderness that Charlie realised he had never properly repaid. Holding his breath he dipped the fingers below the elastic waistband, feeling the wiry curls there as he carded through them. They were hot as the man slept, when Charlie reached the dormant cock, it was in the same furnace-like state. The member quickly stirred and began to fill at his touch, and Charlie let out the breath and drew another in, holding it again. He curled his fingers around the shaft and held Severus’ cock in his palm for the first time.  
  
It was then that it crashed around Charlie how utterly selfish he had been, how focused on his _own_ desires, troubles and pleasures. He had made it through his pregnancy and the month he had been free of his bump without touching the man’s prick. He was unutterably ashamed of himself.  
  
He began to stroke, working his wrist in laborious movements, taking care to massage every ample inch of what he held. His eyes were locked to Severus’ face so that he would not miss the moment that he awoke, realising what was happening to him. Charlie saw Severus in his mind’s eye, stretching and purring with pleasure.  
  
Charlie gripped tighter, angling the cock away from Severus’ body to speed up his strokes, ignoring the way his arm and wrist had begun to ache. More shame tumbled around his shoulders –he was clearly out of practise in the art of giving pleasure.  
  
“Char…lie…” the grunt was breathless, Charlie knew his own eyes lit up as Severus moaned and arched his spine, pressing his hips into Charlie’s hand. “Yes…”  
  
Scooting closer so that he could claim a kiss from the sleepy lips, Charlie forced everything he had left unsaid into Severus’ mouth. He poured into his thanks, his disbelief and his heart into it until he too was breathless, and was forced to pull away. His hand, however, he kept pumping, squeezing with precise strength as he reached the crown.  
  
“Charlie, I’m…”  
“Shh,” Charlie murmured, kissing down one cheek. “Let me do this.”  
  
Severus took him at his word and fell back to moaning gently, pressing up into Charlie’s large hand. When his lungs were sufficiently rested, Charlie kissed him again, and again, and again, before they were both sweating, grunting and gasping, Severus even more than Charlie as his cock was pawed with determined roughness.  
  
“Uh… Charlie… Uh!” the stuttered grunts were the only signal given before Charlie felt wetness flowing over his fingers. Loosening his grip slightly, he focused on Severus’ face, and found it the same as he remembered on the night that their child had been conceived.  
  
The dark hair was thrown back off pale skin, and Severus’ chin was tilted up. Thin lips were parted and his eyelids were not quite closed. He watched Charlie watching him through the half-shutters, and knew when he mouthed Charlie’s name, that the redhead saw it.  
  
Shuddering, the man beneath his hand melted into the mattress, and stilled.  
  
“Hi,” Charlie smiled cheerily, leaning up to steal another kiss.  
“Hello,” Severus’ reply was sultry, and he opened his eyes. Charlie saw that they were relieved. “What, might I ask, brought that on?”  
“You,” Charlie kissed again, closing his eyes and reaching soulfully into Severus’ mouth with his tongue. “You.”  
  
“This is a different Charlie to the one I fell asleep with,” Severus said warily.  
“I know,” Charlie blinked at him. “I know.”  
  
Severus’ arms came up to wrap around his back, and Charlie felt, for the first time in months, strong. The physical differences between their bodies were marked. He was muscular, broad backed and thick boned, and Severus was almost dainty in comparison. He was thin, with a narrow bone structure, but Charlie couldn’t care less. He rolled, straddling Severus’ spent groin, and tented the duvet around them both. He placed one hand on either side of the dark hair and leant down to kiss again, which Severus returned enthusiastically.  
  
“I’m sorry, Severus,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for being selfish.”  
“You were never selfish,” Severus replied instantly. “You were put upon, there is a difference. And I knew that, and never begrudged you anything. Do you understand?”  
  
The harsh, clear tone was back, and Charlie wondered why, that day, Severus felt the need to use it with him.  
  
“Why do you keep talking to me like that?” he asked, blushing slightly. “I mean… I know that earlier… God, it helped, and thank you, for shutting me up with Ron. I would have hurt him if I’d blabbed on for much longer…”  
“Because you were letting go,” Severus said quietly. “I could see it in your eyes.”  
“I wasn’t letting go,” Charlie said indignantly. “Severus, I wasn’t.”  
“Charlie, I don’t think you knew what you were. I have never seen you look so completely lost.”  
“I wasn’t losing myself,” he muttered hotly. “And I won’t argue with you, Severus.”  
“Lying to yourself never solves anything,” Severus looked up, but his face softened; he blinked, and the hardness was gone. “But we should not argue over that now.”  
“No,” Charlie agreed, though he felt beleaguered by the comment.  
  
Because he had taken a moment’s rest, because he had admitted that he needed to stop, he had been accused of letting go. Charlie didn’t think he had let go, at all.  
  
“And if it happens again,” Severus murmured to him, “And I’m convinced it will, because you… you need to heal, and nothing is clean cut, Charlie. I will do the same again. Talk to you as you deserve if you are harsh, and drug you. And then I’ll take you to a Healer.”  
“I’m not going to a Healer,” he shot upright, glaring down at Severus.  
  
 The change of pace in their communication suddenly struck him. They had gone from romantic, to heated, to angry in ten minutes, and the absurdity slammed into him, forcing out of his body a choking laugh.  
  
“Oh, God,” he shook his head, an irremovable smile creeping over his lips. “Severus, whatever you did, do it again. Without you Godric only knows what I’d be doing with myself at the minute. You can do whatever you feel is right. I clearly can’t do anything by myself.”  
“You want to,” Severus sighed. “I think that’s half the problem, you want this independence but you can’t deal with it and your issues with Ollie at the same time. You need someone, Charlie, and you shouldn’t deny yourself it.”  
  
Charlie swallowed then, the blush in his cheeks deepening as he thought about how eager he had been to have Severus sleep with him, to cuddle into his body and warm him up from almost the inside out.  
  
“I know,” he leant down for another kiss. “That’s why I think, Severus, we should stop messing around. I think that we should live together.”  
  
The dark eyes widened as they gazed up at him. Charlie stared intently back, refusing to back down.  
  
“This isn’t brought on by my weird… whatever today was,” he rolled his eyes. “I’ve been thinking it since before Ollie was born, and you know that, Severus. I just think if I’m going to heal, and he’s going to grow up, it would do us both good if you were to move in with us.”  
“I am not easy to live with.”  
  
“I know,” Charlie sighed. “You only drink one kind of tea –the expensive kind, and you don’t like loud music before midday. I know those things, Severus. You practically live here, anyway.”  
“My house is bigger,” Severus offered, chewing somewhat adorably into his bottom lip, though Charlie would never point out that he was doing it. Severus was stubborn enough to stop altogether, and Charlie’s world would be dimmer for never seeing it again.  
“I can’t leave here,” Charlie looked around the bedroom. “I can’t. Ron’s sweat and blood is in these walls, and I know that I will live here until I die.”  
“Christ, where are you getting this drivel from?” Severus laughed suddenly, and Charlie saw the teasing gleam in his eyes.  
  
“Shut up,” he leant down for another kiss. “So, are you with me or not, Severus?”  
  
The man hesitated, Charlie’s stomach lurched. _Don’t break me now, Severus._  
  
“I have some big things coming up at work in the next week,” Severus eyes were watching him for his reaction. “That really do need my full attention. Big commissions, and that trip to the Wizard Quarter in Paris.”  
“Oh, bollocks,” Charlie cursed. “I completely forgot. You know what, don’t move in with me, Severus, I’m a twat,” he sighed, and rolled onto his back, his legs flopping listlessly off the end of the bed.  
  
Severus stole his breath away by reversing their positions, and swinging himself agilely into Charlie’s lap. He reached for his hands, lacing their fingers together, and pulled them up to rest by Charlie’s head. Dark eyes spent a few lingering moments over the way his muscles thickened, and Charlie smiled confidently back.  
  
“After that, then I am free,” Severus said coolly. “And then I will pack up my house, sell the blasted dump, and move in with you.”  
“You’re not pissing around, are you?” Charlie asked weakly, as Severus leant down to kiss him.  
“Do I look like a man who jokes with another’s heart?” Severus arched an eyebrow.   
“No,” Charlie shook his head, and they kissed again.  
  
***  
“Your hair, for the last time, does _not_ smell like sick,” Severus assured him, and Charlie snorted.   
“Go,” he looked at the fire. “Or you’ll never leave.”  
“Would that be such a crime?” Severus smiled, wrapping his arms around Charlie’s waist again.  
“No, but your cat might think so,” Charlie grinned.  
“Okay,” one more kiss was planted softly on his lips. “I’m leaving. Kiss Ollie goodnight for me.”  
  
Severus forced himself away and Charlie watched him go through the Floo. Ollie was asleep, and Charlie was glad.   
  
There was still no urge to run into his son’s room and pick him up to smother him with love. What he felt was a small twinge of warmth, pulsing through him when he remembered the baby was there, but nothing more. He wasn’t going to push himself.  
  
Anything was better than nothing.  
  
Yawning he scratched through his hair, wondering if he had time for a bath _–a bath where my belly won’t stick out of the water, oh yeah-_ before Ollie woke up, but there was a tapping at the window.  
  
He crossed the living room, humming happily. The owl handed him his letter, he didn’t even look at the handwriting as he tore it open. If he had he wasn’t sure he would have touched it. But Christian’s words were suddenly in front of him, and the temptation to read them was too much.  
  
 _‘Charlie-  
  
I understand if you burn this right away. I would, if I were you. The way I acted today was inexcusable. I was mainly shocked, and upset that you had kept the truth from me, though I understand that, too. I don’t think I can honestly say that I would have acted any differently.  
  
You are clearly a very strong man, Charlie, one it hurts me to have hurt. I am sorry for the hurt I know I caused you –you are also a very open man, and your pain was clear to be read on your face. I dread to think what kind of day you have had.  
  
But know this, Charlie –without your favour, as old fashioned as that sounds, all the sunshine was gone from mine.  
  
Yours  
Christian.’  
_  
Whistling through his teeth, Charlie squeezed his eyes shut. And then he dropped into the chair by the table, and pulled towards him ink and parchment.  
  
 _‘Christian-  
  
Yes, I’ve had one hell of a day. And no, your reaction didn’t help. But I withheld the truth from you, and we’d come to trust one another.  
  
There is something else. The father of my baby is a man that has stuck by my side through this pregnancy. We have just agreed to move in together, both for our relationship, and for Ollie.  
  
I know I’ve strung you along, and I’m sorry. You were the result of my mind being fucked up by a pregnancy I did not want, as harsh as that is. You were a safety net that only today I have realised I do not need, because I already have everything I need.  
  
I’m sorry. This letter is blunt, and truthful, and it’s everything I’ve wanted to admit to you since last November.  
  
Charlie.’_  
  
He would cry if _he_ received that letter, he knew, but it had to be said. He had been unfair, and he’d admitted it, and short of saying it in person he didn’t know what else to do. He slipped the parchment into an envelope and rolled it up for the owl. He took one long, hard look at the letter, before he attached it to the animal’s leg, chirruped to it, and re-opened the window.  
  
When it was gone, he sat in the cool breeze floating in from outside.  
  
He didn’t trust the peace which settled around him, but he still felt better than he had in months.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Accidental and unwanted MPreg, Angst, Language, fluff, depression

There was a bird singing on his windowsill. Charlie moaned and stuffed his head under the pillow, not wanting to hear it, not wanting to wake up from the happy sleep he’d been having. The bed shifted next to him, and he felt a hand glide over his hip.  
  
“I know you’re awake,” Severus’ voice was rough with sleep.  
“Yeah, I am,” Charlie snorted, emerging from the pillow and rolling over to land on Severus’ body, and kissed him.  
  
Both hands landed on his back, gliding slowly up his spine to rest on his shoulders as Severus held him determinedly close.  
  
“Oh,” Charlie rolled his eyes. “Good morning.”  
  
A stiff cock pressed into his hip, and he moved against it, causing the dark-haired man beneath him to moan in pleasure.  
  
“Do you think that we’ve got time to just…?” Severus breathed, his eyes closing. “I have half an hour…”  
  
Charlie plundered his mouth, thinking about his options with a smile on his face, but then, as he was not used to it doing, his paternal side kicked in. “Should check on Ollie, he was a bit off yesterday…”  
  
There was a long suffering sigh and Severus smirked, opening his eyes. “Fine, Charlie, but you’re getting out of the bed. I went at two.”  
“Fine,” Charlie smiled back, kissing him again, before rolling off his body and staggering upright.  
  
His boxers slipped where they had been tented by his own morning wood, and he felt Severus’ eyes devouring his form. Turning, he plunged his hand down the front of them, grasped his cock, and re-arranged it. When he looked back to Severus there was a flush in his cheeks and a hungry swallow.  
  
“Baby,” Charlie pointed at the door. “Just be happy that I’m remembering the baby.”  
  
Severus rolled his eyes and settled back into the bed, but he couldn’t quite hide how cheerful his smile was to see Charlie responding in that way. Moving into the cool living room Charlie shivered, remembering once more that he no longer had a baby gut and pyjamas were no longer a challenge. Severus liked him half-naked, anyway.   
  
“Morning,” he felt no anxiety heading into his son’s room, who was awake, and blinking blearily upward. “How are you today?”  
  
 _And yet, talking to a baby that’s not even two months old yet makes you feel like you’re mad. You probably are._  
  
Cuddling Ollie close, Charlie sniffed at the top of his thickening dark hair, and mumbled, “Let’s change you, and go and attack your Dad…”  
  
Holding his breath and successfully managing not to gag, he changed, cleaned, and happily levitated away the stinking nappy to the bin, before tucking Ollie back into his sleep suit and picking him up again. “Your Daddy is such a rockstar. He didn’t gag at all.”  
  
 _Which is better than the time you threw up on your own baby._  
  
Luckily, nobody had been around to see that, which Charlie daily thanked his lucky stars for, and he moved back into the bedroom.   
  
“We don’t want you to go,” Charlie said decisively. “We’ve decided we’re staging a sit-in in protest.”  
  
He dropped into the bed and brought Ollie down to gently rest on his chest, as he done so many times since the week before when he realised that he liked holding him that way. Not tolerated it, but actually _liked_ it. Severus turned onto his side, propping his head up with one hand, and smiled at them both.  
  
“Think he was just having a bad day,” Charlie mused, cocking his head to one side to look at Ollie’s face. “He’s probably hungry but wanted to come in here first.”  
“Mmm, he seems alright,” Severus nodded. “You did well though, not to run off to the hospital at the first sign… I’ve heard mothers do that.”  
“My mother did it for Bill, then she realised she was better than the hospital,” Charlie snorted. “Now you’re lucky if you can get her to agree to visit anybody in it. She looked after my medication, at the beginning… the anti-nausea potions and stuff.”  
“Your mother is amazing,” Severus gave him a bemused smile. “She just doesn’t stop.”  
  
“If I can be half of what she was to us to him…” Charlie trailed off, looking at son’s face.  
  
Severus didn’t assure him with promises of greatness; he just smoothed his hand to rest on Ollie’s back and continued to look at them both. An alarm chimed out from the bedside table and Charlie moaned.  
  
“You have to go now, right?” he looked at Severus with big eyes, hoping he might convince him to stay.  
“Yes, I do, and no, you can’t get me to stay,” Severus rolled his eyes. “God. _Now_ he’s quiet…”  
  
Charlie grinned, knowing that Severus was thinking of their son’s bad timing the evening before.   
_  
Catastrophic timing, one might say._  
  
He’d been stretched, Severus was lubed up, they’d taken a moment’s pause to look at one another, to assuage each other’s fears, and then Ollie had started crying before they could do anything. Charlie felt it was rather akin to having a rug pulled out from beneath his feet. He had wanted nothing more than to fuck Severus since they had started seeing each other regularly, and yet, when Severus had turned to him and voiced that on his end, he was ready to make the jump, Charlie had, uncharacteristically, faltered.  
  
It had led to a long discussion about his fears of becoming pregnant again, and not trusting the contraceptive spells the hospital had taught him. Charlie knew that whilst he could come to love one baby, he was never, ever going through it again. The hospital didn’t want him to, either, fearing the toll on his body would be too much, and it was fine by him. One was more than enough, more than he’d ever wanted.  
  
When they had finally arrived at the point where he felt safe enough to proceed, everything had gone swimmingly until the baby had started crying. They both felt robbed; Charlie could see it in Severus’ eyes and he was pretty sure his own disappointment had been etched into his skin.  
  
“We could do it now?” Charlie bit into his lip. “He’s still sleepy.”  
“No,” Severus sighed. “He’ll just wake up, and we owe ourselves more than just a quick fuc- whatever,” he broke off, looking away as Charlie burst into laughter that Severus wouldn’t swear in front of their baby.  
“Severus, you don’t have to worry about him picking up your words for ages yet. And, if his first word is a swear word, he’ll fit in. D’you know what George’s first word was?”  
“I don’t think I want to know,” Severus shook his head.  
“Arse,” Charlie smirked. “And I think it was my fault because I heard it from Bill. He kind of said ‘arsp’ but it’s gone down in Weasley history.”  
  
“Our poor child,” Severus said in a cynical tone, before shooting Charlie a teasing smirk and climbing out of the bed. “I have to go, you know that.”  
“I know, and this is good for you, out of the country, work expansion…” Charlie reeled off all the reasons why his boyfriend and the father of his child should get out of the bed and go to Paris rather than staying inside it with him.  
  
He lay in the warm bed watching as Severus slowly dressed himself, the dragging movements telling him that his partner didn’t want to leave at all. Charlie didn’t either, but more than anything he wanted Severus to come back, so that they could move in together. Despite his decision to wait, Severus had already looked into selling his own house, and Charlie couldn’t quite believe that he was happy enough to just sell it down the river to accommodate him.  
  
“I so don’t want you to go,” Charlie grumbled, keeping his eyes on Ollie.  
“Which means more to me than you know,” Severus replied quietly, before he disappeared inside the robes he threw over his head.  
“Just come back quick,” he said finally, knowing he couldn’t win and that he had no right to try. “You’d better bring us back presents.”  
“Demanding, aren’t we?” Severus arched an eyebrow.  
“Yes,” Charlie nodded. “But then you knew that. What bloke gets up the spout and turns up in your shop to tell you and _isn’t_ demanding?”  
  
Severus snorted and crossed the bedroom, kneeling one leg on the bed as he bent to capture Charlie’s lips. “You asked me for nothing that I wasn’t already offering to give. You, for all that you went through, were surprisingly un-demanding. I was just joking.”  
  
They kissed again and Charlie felt an unfamiliar jerk of his stomach that only happened when Severus said things like he just had. Things which were heartfelt; things which were said straight from one soul to another. Charlie had considered himself experienced when it came to relationships, but Severus kept knocking him down; the man who hadn’t been with anybody for years.  
  
“If you need me, you’ll message, won’t you?” Severus implored, searching Charlie’s face. “No being stoic because you don’t want to ask for help? At this point in the game it’s rather late for that.”  
“I promise,” Charlie rolled his eyes. “I’ll message if I’m stuck or if he’s ill or,” he looked purposefully into Severus’ eyes, “If I’m ill.”  
  
The depression which landed around his shoulders the week before was something he knew that couldn’t have been solved by the one sleep which had followed it, but the mists had cleared, as far as he was concerned. Everybody else seemed worried that they would return as quickly as they had lifted, and he was sick of being watched like a hawk.  
  
 _And it wasn’t like I was trying to off myself, I just wasn’t talking as much._  
  
“Good, and don’t injure yourself,” Severus narrowed his eyes.  
“I hadn’t been on a broom in eight months,” Charlie glowered, shame brightening his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to fall off.”  
“And landing in the pond?” Severus’ lips curved up.  
“Shut up, you promised you’d never mention it again!” Charlie hissed, as Severus snorted and covered himself by ducking and placing a kiss on Ollie’s head. “If it weren’t for the fact that you’re the only one of us who can get this kid to sleep, I’d throw you out.”  
“No you wouldn’t,” Severus looked blankly back.  
“No, I wouldn’t,” Charlie sighed, and looked up at him. “Love you.”  
  
The two words slipped from his mouth without care, and he held his breath to see Severus’ reaction. There was a small smile, and a kiss on his lips, which dribbled onto his cheek, down the side of his face to his ear where Severus murmured, “Love you too.”  
  
There was completeness to his body that Charlie had never expected. He’d heard those words before –it was wonderful for his ego that he had heard them _several_ times before, and said them back, and what’s more, he had meant it. But nothing had ever felt like he did at that moment, lying on his bed, their son sprawled on his chest, with Severus hovering above him.  
  
“Okay,” he whispered. “You don’t have to get me a present now.”  
“I will anyway,” Severus pulled up, his face a mask of calmness, though his eyes gave him away. “Because you’re you.”  
  
Charlie knew, from that point on, he was going to have the biggest grin on his face, all day long.  
  
***  
“Do you think it’s too soon to send him a message?” Charlie asked his baby in a bored voice. Ollie was reclined back in his flat bouncer with an aerial made of the solar system – _fucking Bill and his need to force knowledge on the young_ \- dangling above him, and looked back him with what Charlie was sure was a special brand of disdain reserved only for him.  
  
“But I miss him,” he said sulkily, throwing his arms over his chest and falling back into the sofa. “And you miss him too, don’t lie to me, child. I’m your father.”  
  
There was a happy sound then and Charlie rolled his eyes.  
  
 _Already laughing at me. Fabulous._  
  
Groaning he threw himself forward and grabbed the stuffed toy dragon from the coffee table. A tiny fist reached out for it and he smiled.   
  
“I’m telling you,” he promised his son. “This is like no dragon I’ve ever seen. Anatomically it’s all tits up, there’s no way you’d get a snout that squashed with the dragon still breathing, and it’s tail’s too long and it’s gut’s too small- you just want it, don’t you?”  
  
Sighing he handed over the model of the Welsh Green and saw the happiness in Ollie’s eyes.  
  
“It is so all wrong though,” he added, making his point though his baby didn’t care. “And one day, when you’re big enough, you can come with me and see where daddy used to work. And where he almost got eaten, once, but you can’t tell your Nan because I never told her about it. I was in the hospital unit for three weeks.”  
  
A smile popped onto his lips talking about his time at the reserve; before he knew it he was telling his baby everything he could remember. Big eyes, which were still changing colour daily, fixed on him the whole time, watching, and if Charlie didn’t know better, he’d say listening.  
  
“So what do you do if a Dragon looks at you like it’s going to eat you?” Charlie asked, as Ollie made a tiny fist around his index finger. “You stay still, don’t go near its eggs, and you use your wand. Never these,” he shook the tiny hand gently. “No, or you’ll get eaten. And then we’d be upset.”  
  
Another happy sound had Charlie glowing. His day was going perfectly. They’d seen Severus off at the door, Charlie shivering in his boxers and Ollie with sleep tousled cuteness, and Severus was almost delirious, though he hid it well. Charlie could tell from the way his shoulders were held, from the set of his face and most of all from the glitter in his eyes, that Severus was thrilled with the way their morning discussion had gone.  
  
The dragon suddenly let out a sporadic puff of air and there was a delighted shriek from Ollie. George had charmed the creature to let out a lukewarm wash of heat every two hours, and his son’s eyes were now glued to the plush toy as though it were made of gold.  
  
“Are you going to follow me, hmm? Leave home at 18 and bury yourself in a reserve for the rest of your life? I don’t think I’d like that,” he felt a pull on his heartstrings at the thought. “Severus wouldn’t either… he’s even more attached than I am.”  
  
He reached forward and lifted Ollie to sit in his lap, once again appreciating the warmth which flowed between him and the tiny body.  
  
“But you can do whatever you want, because we want you to be happy. It doesn’t matter that we have approximately eighteen years before this conversation will ever be needed, but I want you to know…” he ducked his head and kissed Ollie on the nose.  
  
He smiled warmly at his child and wondered how on earth he had arrived at that point. It seemed like only the day before it had been August, even though he had been through hell since then.  
  
“What time is it?” he looked at the clock, seeing it was only eleven. “I think that’s time for a nap, personally. When I carried you I napped all the time… anywhere… I could sleep anywhere and now you’re out I’m not sleeping much at all.”  
  
He lay back on the sofa, stretching out his body on the cushions, and protectively cradled Ollie to his chest again as he had done that morning in bed with Severus.  
  
“You interrupted a pretty hot night last night,” Charlie mumbled. “I think from the look on his face it was the first time he’d ever regretted having a child. He was so fucking ready to have me. And you’re an infant and I’m talking to you about sex. Hell’s arse I need some adult company.”  
  
Ollie nuzzled into his chest with an almost possessive air, and Charlie rolled his eyes, before nuzzling back against the cushion on the arm of the chair.  
  
“Oh, and,” he flung one arm out for the stuffed dragon and brought it close to them both, tucking it under his arm next to Ollie. “I don’t think that I’ve ever seen a dragon without claws, either. Totally unrealistic.”  
  
***  
“Earth to Charlie?”  
  
 _Aaaagh what the fuck? What?_  
  
“Getthefuckawayfrommybabyori’llripyourspineout!”  
  
“Whoa, Char,” Bill laughed, taking a step back. “It’s just me.”  
  
Charlie blinked madly around at the living room before he sagged back on the sofa cushions. His violent awakening caused Ollie’s eyes to fill with tears and he couldn’t comfort him before a wail escaped his mouth.  
  
“Shh,” he pleaded. “Just your Uncle Bill making me make a twat out of myself, shhh, Ollie. It’s alright.”  
  
He gently rocked the baby in his arms and pulled him up for a gentle kiss to the forehead, and was thrilled when Ollie settled almost immediately afterward.  
  
“What time is it?” Charlie looked back at Bill, who was staring at him with a bemused expression.  
“Half two,” Bill didn’t have to check his watch. “Charlie-”  
“Shit, I’ve fucked up his routine,” Charlie moaned, jumping to his feet and flying to the kitchen. “Fuck fuck fuck.”  
“Calm down,” Bill said, his voice the gentle soothing tone which he always used when Charlie was agitated. “And give me Ollie.”  
  
Charlie gratefully handed Ollie over as he sorted out a bottle for his son, muttering beneath his breath insults at his own intelligence and at Bill’s for waking him up so unsubtly.  
“Have you been asleep long?” Bill asked. “Because I think he needs a change.”  
“Oh,” Charlie closed his eyes with a groan. “I’m bollocks at this time management thing.”  
“You always were,” Bill smiled. “Not many people could hand in their charms NEWT coursework two weeks late and still walk out with an outstanding.”  
“What can I say?” Charlie squirted some milk onto his arm. “I’m special.”  
“I’ve been telling you that for years,” Bill snorted. “Can I feed him?”  
  
Charlie couldn’t believe the way he felt so utterly conflicted about handing the bottle over. “No,” he murmured shyly. “I want to.”  
  
Bill’s smile was infuriating as he handed Ollie back to Charlie, and they walked into the living room. “I told you you’d get the hang of it.”  
“Yeah well, you’re always right, so why are you surprised?” Charlie groused, trying to entice his baby to drink from the unappetising rubber teat. “I wish I had boobs for this kid.”  
“Fucking hell, who are you?” Bill laughed, dropping down onto the sofa.  
“Why aren’t you at work?” Charlie looked up. “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”  
“No, Fleur had an appointment at the hospital and wanted me to go with her, I thought I’d say hello before I headed back to work…”  
“Don’t you take afternoons off any more?” Charlie raised his eyebrows.  
“Did you ever do that?” Bill retorted. “No. You worked with your dragons all day long and stayed in that poky flat and worked yourself to the bone.”  
“And loved it,” Charlie added defensively, looking down into Ollie’s face.   
“Which was weird,” Bill snorted. “Look, whilst you’re doing that, I’m starving. Can I make lunch?”  
  
“Yeah, sure,” Charlie grinned. “I love being waited on hand and foot, so go for it.”  
“Prick,” Bill muttered good-naturedly beneath his breath as he headed to the kitchen. “So is Severus gone then?”  
“Yeah,” Charlie sighed. “This morning.”  
“You sound like someone’s kicked your puppy.”  
“I feel like someone did,” Charlie admitted. “And it sucks.”  
“Look at you all loved up,” Bill’s smooching sounds were loud from the depths of the kitchen.  
“Don’t make me come in there and get all dragon keeper on your backside,” Charlie warned.  
  
The playful banter continued between them and Charlie realised he had missed it. Through the months of his pregnancy where he had become steadily more and more depressed, though he’d never recognised it as such, and in the month that Ollie had been there, he had missed being with his brothers.  
  
“We should go out,” he said decisively. “When Severus comes home, and we can all get a night together, we should go out. Mum can babysit Vic and Ollie, and we can get rat arsed like we used to.”  
“That sounds good,” Bill nodded. “And maybe this time it won’t end up with you coughing your guts up on the club floor.”  
“Am I ever going to live that down?” Charlie groaned, getting to his feet and wandering to the kitchen.  
“Not likely, the way George is now telling the story you managed to choke up over a tart in a mini-skirt.”  
“Little shit,” Charlie flushed. “It wasn’t that dramatic.”  
“It was singularly one of the scariest moments of my life,” Bill turned to him, and his face dropped with sincerity. “I thought I was going to lose you.”  
“Well, you didn’t,” Charlie said quietly, looking into Ollie’s face.  
“Char?” Bill turned back to the sandwiches he was messily making.  
“Yeah?”  
“You said ‘when Severus comes home’…”  
“Oh, fuck,” Charlie made a face. “Yeah, I… erm. Got some news, mate.”  
“You only call me mate when you’re nervous about something,” Bill said shrewdly. “What is it, then?”  
  
“When he comes back, he’s going to move in here.”  
“Fuck,” Bill whistled through his teeth. “When did you decide that?”  
“Last week,” Charlie leant against the worktop, setting the abandoned bottle down.  
“After you went a bit loopy?”  
“Yeah,” Charlie didn’t bother to correct his brother –he was sick of trying. They could think what they wanted to think, he alone seemed to know that he hadn’t been in any real danger that day. “I couldn’t give up this place, after what Ron did for me… so he agreed to sell his house and move in here. I’m still a bit… shocked.”  
“That he said yes?”  
“That he agreed to sell his home,” Charlie raised his eyebrows. “I think he’s lived in one place all his life, and he’s moving just for me.”  
  
“Must really love you then, huh?”  
“Yeah, he does,” Charlie answered without thinking. “Bollocks. You’re forbidden from telling anybody that!”  
“Even my wife?” Bill asked innocently. “Because I don’t have secrets from my wife, Charlie.”  
“Well now you do,” Charlie reached out and poked him in the ribs. “Because your wife, Merlin love her, has a bit of mouth, Bill, and it’ll be round the family faster than Harry can catch a snitch pissed.”  
  
Bill burst out laughing, his hair falling down his back as his head tilted with his chortles, and he nodded. “Point taken. Harry’s amazing when he’s drunk.”  
“If Ginny’s not screeching below him running around with a net to catch him.”  
  
“Hey, anybody in?”  
“Like a sodding Floo Portal in here today,” Charlie grumbled. “In the kitchen.”  
“Ooh, what are we eating? I’m starving,” Ron poked his head into the kitchen.  
“Give your uncle a hug,” Charlie foisted Ollie into Ron’s arms, as his own had begun to ache. “Oh, no, look at that, he needs changing.”  
  
Ron snorted and pressed a kiss to Ollie’s forehead. “You’re a crafty git, you know that, right?”  
“And proud. Change my baby and I’ll feed you,” Charlie bargained. “And, I’ll even let you hold him whilst you eat.”  
“So generous,” Ron threw over his shoulder as he disappeared.  
“He seems to be doing alright,” Charlie edged closer to Bill and sneaked a slice of ham out of the pack; Bill stabbed half-heartedly at his hand. “I haven’t seen much of him lately.”  
“Nobody has, all loved up,” Bill looked as though he was about to make his annoying-older-brother smooching noise again and Charlie rolled his eyes.  
  
“You think you’re so clever with your marriage and your baby.” Charlie needled. “I’ll not remind you of that girl you were in love with at school. Who didn’t know your name.”  
“Shut up,” Bill sniffed. “That was true love, you bastard.”  
“Awh,” Charlie rolled his eyes. “If only she hadn’t turned out to be a lesbian.”  
“What?!” Bill erupted.  
“Yeah, you turned her off women,” Charlie dodged out of the kitchen, his grin widening further.  
  
***  
“Do you think they’ll notice that it’s like, half past four,” Bill turned his head to the clock on the wall. “And I’m not back at work yet?”  
“Maybe they’ll just think you’ve fallen into a black hole,” Ron shrugged, moving a piece on the chess board with Ollie’s hand.  
  
Charlie looked at Ron sitting cross legged on the floor, Ollie in his lap, as they sat next to the chess board on the coffee table. It was always hard to play against Ron, a boy he had taught all of his own moves, their grandfather’s moves, who was brilliant at playing them like the man he had grown into. His brain was actually beginning to hurt from all the quick work he had to do. Charlie was the only person in the family that Ron ever lost to in a game of wizard chess. But the desire to beat him whilst he cuddled Ollie was absent, and Charlie kept watching the tiny little hands curl around the chess pieces.  
  
“Why are we playing muggle chess?” Ron grumbled again. “No fun.”  
“No violence you mean,” Bill snorted.  
“We’re playing muggle chess because I don’t know where my other set is,” Charlie made a face. “I think George has pinched it. Maybe Perce.”  
“Well,” Bill leant forward and surveyed the board. “Doesn’t matter, Ron’s still losing.”  
“Go back to work, banker,” Ron narrowed his eyes at the board and tried to conjure magic where there was none.  
  
Charlie smirked, knowing he had trapped Ron good and proper, and didn’t even bother to sit forward to taunt him. Bill looked at him and winked, before rising to his feet. “Right, children,” he sighed sadly. “One of us must go and be an adult.”  
“Sucks to be you,” Ron grinned at the board.  
  
Bill reached out and flicked his ear, hard, Ron hissed and Charlie laughed.  
  
“Good to see you doing that,” Bill tugged Ollie out of Ron’s lap for a goodbye kiss. “It’s good to see you’ve found your way at last.”  
“You make me sound like I was a delinquent,” Charlie said indignantly.  
“Not far off,” Bill’s azure eyes glittered with amusement. “But c’mon, you have to admit… what’s changed, Char?”  
  
He thought about it before he answered, and accepted his son when Bill placed him in Charlie’s lap. “I dunno, I guess I grew up a bit?”  
“Would you still enjoy sitting on top of Ron and tickling him until he was bawling?” Bill looked at him suspiciously.  
“Always,” Charlie grinned wickedly.  
“Then you’ve not grown up at all, liar,” Bill laughed, and headed for the Floo. “See you at the weekend.”  
  
Ron waited until Bill had gone before he said, “You hold me down and tickle me I’ll set my boyfriend on you. And he knows some dark shit.”  
“Well my boyfriend knows more,” Charlie replied with a childish grin. “Mine’s older, trumps yours.”  
“How did we end up with two Slytherins?” Ron frowned at a move on the board. “Seems weird.”  
“Always told you we were too alike for our own good,” Charlie yawned. “At least they can keep each other company at Christmas.”  
“So… Severus is sticking around then?”  
“More than,” Charlie didn’t offer any more.   
“I’m happy for you, checkmate,” Ron got to his feet and brushed off the seat of his robes, leaving Charlie to stare completely aghast at the board.  
“But you… you never beat me.”  
“Parenthood’s clearly sent your brain all soft,” Ron packed away the pieces with magic. “And I frankly rule”  
  
“Son-of-a-”  
“You shouldn’t talk about your mother that way,” Ron threw himself down on the sofa next to them.  
  
They fell into a happy silence until Charlie said, “Hey, shouldn’t you be getting back to work?”  
“Nah,” Ron swallowed. “Kings gave me the afternoon off.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I’ve been a bit… restless, I guess. Not putting everything in that I should.”  
“What’s up?” Charlie turned, concerned, and saw Ron’s face close. “Hey, no hiding, Ron, you’ve forced me to talk about more stuff than I ever wanted to these past few months.”  
“I don’t want to… look, I’m going home. I’m fine, though, and don’t worry.”  
“I’d feel much better about believing you, Ron, if you didn’t look so odd. Is everything fine between you and Draco?”  
“Perfect,” Ron did smile then, a dirty smile full of promise. “Fine.”  
“Get out of here, then… unless. What are your plans for tonight?”  
“Sitting on my arse, Draco’s got to work late and tonight’s his night with his parents, so…”  
“Shall we come over then?” Charlie held up Ollie and smiled hopefully. “We’ll get pizza, you can pay, I’m broke, and have a bloke’s night in?”  
“With a baby?” Ron laughed.  
“Hey, he’s a bloke,” Charlie scowled. “And we need to teach him about bloke things, like hot girls… oh…”  
  
“I’ll see you at eight,” Ron shook his head.  
  
Charlie raised his hand in goodbye and watched his littlest brother walking through the fire and disappearing. “Okay, well, there’s our mission for tonight,” Charlie sighed down at Ollie. “Find up what’s wrong with Ron _now_ … honestly, it’s like he looks for trouble.”  
  
He fell into silence, thinking about his happy afternoon and how both of his brothers had commented on his return to happy sociability. Bill’s words especially came back to him, over and over again, about finding his way. He knew that his answer about growing up hadn’t been truthful, but then he didn’t want to confess everything to his brother, who might judge him for his explanation.  
  
What had changed was the fact that Charlie was no longer clinging to the idea of another man as his back up plan, because he had fully accepted that he didn’t need one. There had been no reply to his truthful letter, and Charlie would have been staggered to receive one. He hoped that Christian had already forgotten about him, even though he knew it was probably wishful thinking. Nobody forgot love that quickly.  
  
Leaning back on the sofa he knew his change had come from acceptance of what he’d been given in life. He wasn’t far gone enough to look on Ollie as a ‘gift’ –that sort of sentimentality didn’t seem likely to ever come to him. He loved his son, but he still remembered the pain, and the upset, and the way his life had been interrupted. The dragons were something he missed daily. He longed for the smell of burnt greenery and he missed waking up to know that he would work at an amazing reserve that day. He missed it so much his heart ached and the smell was instantly in his nostrils. But he was getting there.  
  
However, it felt as though there was something hanging over him, which he had to clear before he would feel completely normal. He suspected that it had something to do with the large stack of secret letters hidden in his copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , the only book that Severus had never been likely to touch on his shelf. He hadn’t looked at them in the week since his last correspondence to Christian, and really Charlie had no idea why he was holding on to the letters. He was happy to have let go.  
  
“Daddy wasn’t always this much of a coward,” he said to Ollie, who blinked at him. “You can’t keep dragons and be a fucking wimp. It’s like using a chocolate cauldron. Useless. I was never useless, Ollie.”  
  
There was a cry and he jumped, startled, and he lifted his baby to face level. “Yeah, I know how that sounded, like I said it was you that made me useless. It was. But I’m learning not to hold it against you. You’ve got to give me a bit of a time. Can’t do everything.”  
  
He kissed the end of the nose which was so obviously from his side of the gene pool, and noticed that there were tiny freckles forming over the bridge of Ollie’s nose.  
  
“Oh look at that,” he smiled. “You really are well and truly a Weasley now. The freckles are as much of a part of us as the red hair.”  
  
***  
After settling Ollie down for a nap, seeing as they would be out late that evening, Charlie took a deep breath and pulled the book with its crumbling spine from the shelf. It was thick with all the added parchment which forced the pages apart. He had used the manual so many times throughout his life that he should probably retire his copy, which was a first edition, again from his grandfather, and buy another one.  
  
 _Except you can’t because you have no disposable income because you’re as poor as hell.  
_  
Sighing Charlie nudged the coffee table out of the way with his leg, and settled down on the rug that it sat on. One by one he laid out the letters in the order that they had been received, and found he had two gaps, which he represented with a space on the floor for the letter he had burnt, and an open end where Christian had never replied to the last one he’d sent.  
  
He picked up the first, leant back against the sofa, and began to read. He saw the tentativeness of the words ease away as he worked his way through the set of letters. Charlie found himself chuckling over one point in his pregnancy which Christian had quoted, and then commented on.  
  
 _“I’m so bored. I’ve started playing myself at exploding snap. None of the fun but the same old danger. I kissed goodbye to my eyebrows hours ago.”  
  
‘Charlie, sweetheart, get out of the house. Breathe fresh air. It’ll help. I promise. And if not, eat. Just don’t play exploding snap with yourself. I fear for your sanity!’  
_  
Snorting he dropped the letter back down, reading further until he was forced to stop, feeling incredibly guilty. Charlie had never had cause to think of himself as particularly cruel, but looking at Christian’s responses, he felt it. It was very obvious, from early on, that the blond man felt for him, and much earlier than he had ever admitted it. His words were kind, caring and engaging, even though there had been no reason for him to write at all.  
  
 _Would you have written to man you’d danced with and then watched cough blood up over the floor?_ Charlie didn’t like his answer to that. He reached the space on the rug which represented the letter with the proclamation of love, and he looked up at the fire, resenting then that he had thought to burn it at the time, his primary focus being the note’s removal from Severus’ presence.  
  
The ones which followed jumped up a notch in intimacy.  
  
 _‘I think about you so much. Sad, I know. I just miss you, and can’t wait until we can meet up, whenever that might be. Are you ill enough that you might die before we get that chance? Just so I know. I like to be kept informed of these things.’  
_  
Charlie read the last letter before the day that they eventually met each other again, and Christian had run out on him. He rolled his neck and reach up to rub at it. With perspective, he didn’t blame the man’s response, but he still couldn’t forgive it. The memories hurt too much. He looked at the empty space on the rug, and what it represented, and took a deep breath.  
  
His fingers hovered over the pages, and he noticed their shake. He had never had a shake to his hand before, but there it was in front of him, either from the stress on his body from his pregnancy or because he was out of shape. Clenching it in a fist he lowered it to the pages to gather them up and put them into the fire.  
  
The letters were the closure he was missing, and when they were gone, nothing but ashes in his grate, he knew he would feel better.  
  
A sad wail cut through the house then and he jumped, still unused to there being a baby in the spare room. Jumping to his feet and leaving his bridges to be burned waiting on the floor, he raked a hand back through his hair as he headed to Ollie’s nursery. Lighting the room his son was red faced and teary, and Charlie cuddled him to his chest, assessing smell, the tone of the cry and trying to remember the time to see if he needed to get a bottle.  
  
“What’s up little dude?” he murmured, when nothing jumped out at him. “Bad dream? I used to have them too, when I was little.” He jostled the baby in his arms, swinging him lightly from side to side.  
  
A large amount of snot landed on his t-shirt, and he groaned. “You know, Ron used to do that,” Charlie grinned. “I remember being eight, and he was all pink and weird and had this weird little tuft of red hair on his head, and then the little git snotted on my shoulder.”  
  
Ollie settled and Charlie’s heart calmed slightly; he hadn’t even noticed it was fluttering. “Look how you’re affecting me these days. When you cried it was just something to get up for… but now I actually care about what’s… upsetting you.”  
  
The baby in his arms blinked sleepily and Charlie smiled, gently laying him down again. “And, I’ll put the dragon here,” he shifted it so that Ollie would be able to see it. “Because we know you don’t sleep without it.”  
  
That was a lie, his baby was already asleep and he hadn’t even seen the dragon, but Charlie smirked, narrowed his eyes, and moved it anyway.  
  
He turned back into the living room, grinning stupidly, and looked up in time to choke out loud. Severus’ smile was wide as he stepped out of the fire, brushing soot from his robes.  
  
“Surprise,” he said, somewhat tightly, as though he were not accustomed to delivering such gifts, or maybe it was that he didn’t think that he himself made a very good one. Charlie’s heart jumped with painful agility as his face broke into a beam.  
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice higher than was acceptable for a gruff dragon keeper of his stature.  
“My business was done quickly, so I came home to you…” Severus smiled at him.  
“And?” Charlie asked eagerly.  
“They went for what I thought, what will bring in a good five thousand more galleons a month…”  
“Holy shit!” Charlie laughed, bounding forward eagerly.  
  
His bare foot caressed parchment, and a jolt shot through him as he realised quite what was spread over the living room floor. Severus was smiling at him, and then he stepped off the hearth. A letter crunched beneath his foot and he stepped back before frowning curiously at Charlie.  
  
“What are you doing?” he smiled, dropping into a crouch and picking up the letter he’d trodden on.   
  
Charlie’s mouth was horribly parched as he saw the onyx eyes sweeping over the dried ink. From the position he saw that it was after Christian had said he loved him. After that, the phrase had been used liberally throughout their correspondence, though never from Charlie’s end. It was with a lurching stomach that he realised he had absolutely no proof of that.  
  
Severus dropped the parchment, his eyes flying over the others, noting the way the handwriting was always the same, and he snatched up the last letter. His mouth was an impossibly tight line when he rose.  
  
As his face lifted, Charlie saw that the colour had drained from it.  
  
“What are these?” the words were cold. “Who is he?”  
  
Severus’ shrewd eyes narrowed and Charlie’s tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Severus took a step back and ripped another letter off the floor, but Charlie saw which one it was that time. Christian had been so free with the endearment within it, it was mortifying to see the man he loved stand there and read the damning words.  
  
Severus simply stared.  
  
“I can explain,” Charlie finally found his voice. “Severus, I can-”  
“ _Shut up,_ ” the words were a snarl. “I don’t want to hear it.”  
“Severus, listen to me-”  
“I can’t believe this,” the dark eyes rolled upward in obvious despair. “This is the first time I have let myself feel in twenty _fucking_ years, to find out that you’ve been doing this behind my back?” One rigid hand jabbed at the letters on the floor.  
“No, Severus, please, just let me explain, this is nothing, he’s nothing and if you just-”  
  
“I told you to shut up,” the shout was loud in his living room, and the immediate silence which followed turned Charlie’s innards to ice. “This is… _why_ …?”  
  
The wildness of the man’s voice brought Charlie’s breath to the fore in short gasps. Severus was furious, the anger tearing up his expression and making his eyes blaze. He looked nothing like the man that Charlie had fallen in love with, had a baby with, been planning to move in with. He looked half-crazed.  
  
Charlie knew why. He knew that what looked like his betrayal was destroying the bonds they had forged, the love they had created, inside Severus’ mind, that his destructive, self-deprecating nature was ripping their happiness to shreds. And there was nothing he could do to stop it whilst Severus refused to let him explain.  
  
“So what was it? What was the point of the past six months, Charlie?!” Severus snapped around, storming up to the letters and throwing a well-aimed kick at the parchment. They brushed across the floor, turning upside down and drifting closer to the fire.   
  
_Where I should have put them as I received each one._ Charlie realised his mistake far too late, and was devastated that he couldn’t rectify it.  
  
“You kept your options open,” Severus sneered, every inch of his slender frame seemingly trembling. “You had to find yourself a back up, another man to love you in case you didn’t find that you loved me enough? Because who would! Was this morning just a lie then? God!”  
  
Severus tore away, his hands rising to his face and dragging through his hair. “Listen to me. Raving on like some mad teenager! I wasn’t a teenager even when I _was_ a teenager for Christ’s sake.”  
  
He paused, his fingers shaking, and a surge of hope leapt in Charlie’s chest. He took a step forward, his hands up in peace. His lips opened to speak but his voice failed him.  
  
“Save it,” Severus recovered himself, the malice back in his tone. “You want options, Charlie? Fine, I will open up the path for you and gladly shove you down it.”  
  
The dark hair gleamed in the firelight, but Charlie noticed nothing else as Severus opened the door to the nursery and disappeared.  
  
“Severus?” the fear in his voice accompanied his heart, which burst into overdrive. “What are you…?”  
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he snapped, appearing in the door frame.  
  
Charlie saw Ollie wrapped safely in his arms, still asleep. Just then his son nuzzled into Severus’ neck, made a contented sound, and Severus looked up at him. Pressure suddenly crushed Charlie’s chest, and Severus walked to the front door.  
  
“You can’t take him away from me!” Charlie gasped, his mouth remaining open in horror as he guessed the man’s next move. “No, Severus, he’s my son, you can’t do that-”  
“He is my son too, much to your obvious disgust,” Severus glared back at him.  
“But you can’t take him away!”  
  
“Why not?” Severus straightened his shoulders, and Charlie saw the deep intake of breath. It told him that what was coming next was going to hurt. “You don’t love him. You never have. And now, Charlie, I find out you don’t love me either, after I have made it plain to you that you are everything to me. Why on _earth_ would I leave my son with a parent who only _tolerates_ him? I grew up with that, let it ruin me and my life; I refuse to make the same mistake with my own child. Why would I stay in a relationship where I am not loved? I am _not_ a fool!” His voice had risen to a shaking yell of fury.  
  
“But he’s ours,” Charlie whispered brokenly. “He’s ours, Severus, and you can’t just… go… please don’t go. I love you, I promise you I-”  
  
“Weasley,” Severus yanked open the door. “Take your other option.”  
  
There was a slam of wood and Charlie felt his knees buckle as he looked at the closed door, but somehow he remained upright.  
  
 _Oh… fuck._  
  
His mind was empty, unable to come up with anything more prolific to say about the fact that the love of his life had just walked out of the door with their child.  
  
 _Ours_.  
  
“Oh shit.”   
  
The emotion battered him from each side as he stood staring at the door. The pressure on his head was immense, and he put his hands into his hair and curled his fingers, tugging. The old response to his childhood nightmares flew back to him to accompany his misery.  
  
He turned, looking at the messy letters over the floor. They had ruined everything. His need for safety, even though at the time he hadn’t known it was what he craved, had managed to end the thing he truly loved, what he had _grown_ to love through the course of his pregnancy.  
  
 _A pregnancy you didn’t want.  
  
But was only bearable because of Severus._  
  
A lump formed in his throat as he thought about everything which had changed since the previous August. His job, his social life, his happiness and carefree nature had gone up in smoke, because of a life altering event which he had been trapped into by the law; by circumstance he didn’t know existed.  
  
There was nothing about the situation that he desired, nothing that he wanted to remember fondly.   
  
Except what had just walked out of the door.  
  
 _You spent months searching for an out, hoping that it would go away. And it just has. Just like that. Easier than you could ever have dreamed of. It’s gone, he’s gone, the baby’s gone, and you’re here._  
  
His solitude slammed into him harder than anything else could have. He was free, and he had the opportunity to walk out of the door of his miserable little prison and return to Romania, which was what he had wanted from the second he’d been told the news. Numb, he turned to look at the door which led to freedom, and then he glanced back at the letters.  
  
The sight of them caused nausea as gripping as that he had suffered during the nine months he carried his child. The bile rose in his throat.  
 _  
They’re gone. You can run now. Severus has said no, he’s taken Ollie –his stomach turned as he thought the name- and that can be it. Go, Charlie._  
  
His flight instinct took over but his body was broken, if only for that moment.  
  
Charlie dropped his face into his hands, and closed his eyes. Blood pounded in his ears as his life hung in the balance. Something shattered inside.   
  
Everything was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Accidental and unwanted MPreg, Angst, Language,

Charlie wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he stood, numb, in the middle of his living room. The letters were still scattered over the carpet, a messy reminder of the ruin they’d committed, and his feet had not moved. He was torn, unable to choose his path.  
  
The house was just _so_ quiet, and only the sound of his breathing disturbed the peace. It unnerved him then as it had unnerved him when he first moved in, and found himself pregnant and alone. But there was far more sadness attached to the silence, he found, as he looked around the house which he had made his own.  
  
 _House which was only bearable because of him coming round, bringing you food and porn that you couldn’t ask anybody else for._  
  
Charlie cringed into himself, thinking of all the things that Severus had done for him through the course of his pregnancy –all the tender care, excusing his moods, helping him with the pain management, of which there had been very little, but the man's presence alone had helped. He couldn’t believe that he had ever been foolish enough to feel that he needed a net to catch him if he fell. Severus would never have left him _without_ the good cause that Charlie knew he had handed to the man on a plate.  
 _  
And he was right to leave, because most people would have thought the same…_  
  
Moaning at his sheer stupidity, Charlie dropped his face into his hands, his mind racing with insulting thoughts about himself. Nobody would understand his actions, he was sure of that.  
  
 _You were also sure you would never love your fucking baby, you twat. And you clearly do._  
  
Charlie had never been more ashamed that it had taken Severus taking their child away to make him realise quite how much he cared for Ollie. His feet involuntarily moved to the open door of the nursery, where his eyes fell on the empty cot, and the scrunched up tiny blanket. Then he looked at the plush dragon toy. Pain unrivalled blossomed into Charlie’s chest, and he reached up to rub at it, wondering when he had become so attached to the son he had insisted that he would never feel for, never forgive.   
  
His son had brought him Severus. He wished it could be the other way round, that he had met the man, fallen in love with him, and conceived afterward. But there was no denying that they had fallen for one another waiting for their baby to be born. Charlie regretted the time he had spent moping about the situation, wishing that Severus loved him and him alone, when, in light of everything being taken away, it was so, so much better than having nothing.  
  
 _So, really… why’re you still standing here, and not chasing him?_  
  
“Because I don’t know where he lives,” he answered himself aloud, and an embarrassed blush ruined his face.  
  
Severus had given him so much to the point that Charlie couldn’t name the road that the man lived on. He had never been to the house, he had greedily soaked up each of Severus’ visits, begged him not to leave and begged him for attention. It had been freely given, along with financial help, loving care and physical energy.  
  
 _And what the fuck have you given back? Nothing._  
  
For some reason, the reserve popped into his mind then, and Charlie shook his head, trying to force it away. But the cruelty he felt at recognising how often he had neglected _Severus'_ needs reminded him of the way he felt cruel whenever he was forced to let a dragon go, when he was so attached that he almost couldn’t bear to do it, for his own emotions, rather than the animal’s welfare. Of course, then, his brain always won out, and he did the right thing. Guilt bubbled in his gut, sweeping up his throat in the form of vomit, but he forced it away. He had never felt more selfish than at that moment. He felt even worse when he considered that his guilt was not for his child, but for the man he loved. At that point it was difficult to determine quite who he loved more.  
  
 _And should you feel guilty that Severus would win that contest?_  
  
His eyes fell on the letters again.  
  
 _And if Severus is winning, why the hell are you still standing here?_  
  
A jolt of energy forced him forward, but the roadblock of the missing address slammed into his hope, and he faltered. Asking anybody else for the address would mean admitting that something wasn’t right between them, that Charlie stood to lose everything.  
  
And there was only one person he felt he could admit that to.  
  
***  
“Godric, what’s the matter?” Ron frowned, easing off the sofa where he had apparently been curled up.  
“I need Severus’ address,” Charlie said instantly, heat burning his face. “Where he lives…”  
“What?” Ron made his confused face and Charlie was immediately frustrated.  
“I need you to tell me where he lives, I need to…”  
“Has something happened?”  
“Yeah…” Charlie swallowed, preparing for the words, but in the next second, Ron had given him the address without an argument.   
  
He stared back at his brother, blinking and stunned, and Charlie repeated it over and over to commit the address to memory. He never wanted to forget it again.  
  
“Thank you,” he breathed, and moved to the front door, pulling it open.  
“Why don’t you just go by Floo?” Ron’s voice was devoid of proper curiosity, and Charlie froze.  
  
Turning to look at Ron’s slender form, he saw pale skin and red rimmed eyes. His heart throbbed and he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but the words wouldn’t come.  
  
 _Right now, **he** has to be number one. Severus has to be number one._  
  
Charlie was trying to salvage the remains of his happiness, but he longed to ask his brother was wrong, to comfort him. But he closed his mouth and just looked. He had never imagined there would be anybody he was willing to abandon a family member in need for. It was his own need, and Severus’ need, which was going to force him out of the door of Ron’s flat and not look back.  
  
“I might need you,” he breathed. “I might need a favour in about ten minutes. Can you help me?”  
  
Charlie scoffed at himself mentally. Once again he was asking Ron to help him, when Ron had already given him so much. And he had nearly ruined it all.  
  
“Sure,” Ron shrugged, sliding his hands into his jeans pockets. “Whatever you need.”  
“Thanks,” Charlie forced a grin onto his face, and before he could stop himself launched himself across the room again and grabbed Ron in his arms.  
  
He thought he heard bones creaking from the force of his embrace, but he didn’t let go until the urgency stabbed at him again. Pulling back, he searched Ron’s face, but when he received no answer, he had to give up. If Ron had asked for his help, he would have stayed.  
  
 _Ron never asks._  
  
Feeling terrible for abandoning his brother, but desperate to get to Severus, Charlie exited the flat quickly, jogging down the stairs two at a time to reach the main lobby quickly. He barged out into the road and headed for the nearest dark spot he could see, yanking his wand from his jeans as he went. He was only wearing his t-shirt, ripped jeans and trainers. The night was cold and when he channelled his magic and turned into the spot, he was already shivering.  
  
Landing in the middle of what appeared to be a torrential downpour was completely infuriating. Spluttering as the water splashed off his face, Charlie coughed ungracefully and looked wildly around at the house numbers of the brick buildings, seeing the large puddles forming over the cobbled floor. He was at the wrong end of the road.   
  
Running came easy when his feet began without his permission. He didn’t bother to skirt the puddles; the water splashed up and soaked through his jeans as he charged through them, flooding his trainers with cold water. His hair was trickling cold splashes down his neck, his t-shirt was sodden and stuck to his torso. The doors to the houses flashed past, the entire street was deserted on account of the downpour, and he ran in silence, the slaps of his feet and his ragged breath the only sounds. They melted into the rain.  
  
The lights were on as he skidded to a halt outside Severus’ house. The yellow poured out onto the pavement, reflecting in the excess water. The sprint caught up with him, and Charlie panted as he dragged his hand over his face, trying to dry it off so that he could thump on the door without the appearance of a drowned rat, but it was simply replaced by the falling rain.  
  
His jeans gave a lurch south over his hips and Charlie stepped awkwardly forward, the denim chafing his wet-frozen skin. He had no idea what he was going to say, but he raised his fist and thumped hard on the door, a strong, heavy rhythm.  
 _  
Please, Merlin, please make him answer the door. Answer the door. Answer the door._  
  
Charlie knew how far his desperation would drive him, if he had been driven to praying. If Severus didn’t answer the door he’d kick it down, which would make nobody happy. But he would do it anyway.  
  
 _Come on, Severus, please. I know you’re upset… let me in…_  
  
When there were no footsteps forthcoming, or no blurry figure heading towards the door, Charlie moaned aloud, a little sob which echoed around the empty street. He banged hard on the door again, getting so close that his forehead almost rested on the wood.  
  
“Severus, please let me in, it’s me,” he shouted through the door, not caring who else he disturbed. “Please let me in.”  
  
His voice seemed to bring the change, and he kicked himself for not shouting out before. Perhaps Severus didn’t bother to answer the door when he wasn’t expecting anybody –and why should he, in the middle of a downpour like the one trying to drown Charlie?  
  
The slender form appeared in the hallway, and Charlie thought he might land face-first in the water. Nerves jangling with the realisation that he had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to make it better, he held his breath as the door swung open.  
  
“Charlie!” Severus’ face lit up with a smile.  
  
 _What?_  
  
Charlie looked at Ollie, who was snugly wrapped in Severus’ arms, and the happiness in the man’s face.  
  
“You’re soaked,” Severus rolled his eyes. “Come in and dry off.”  
“Severus?” Charlie asked, his voice riddled with uncertainty.  
“Fine, stay in the rain if you want,” Severus looked back at him like he was mad. “Anyway… I was just about to feed Ollie… though I’m not sure why he’s here with me and not with you?”  
“Severus?” Charlie asked again, a slop from a gutter above the door landing square on his curls and making him gasp.  
“Get in here and shut the bloody door,” Severus turned away, walking down the hallway.  
  
Charlie stepped inside the house, which smelt of tea and herbs, causing his guts to churn, and closed the door. He immediately began to drip large amounts of water onto the worn carpet.  
  
“I’m glad you came,” Severus called from another room, and Charlie walked there, his feet and sodden jeans dragging as he moved. “I can tell you about what happened in Paris.”  
“But I know what happened in- oh.”  
  
Wondering if his night could get any worse, Charlie had to lean against the doorframe for support. Severus looked at him, concern in his dark eyes, and set Ollie down.  
  
“How do you know? I’ve not been back long, I was coming to see you,” Severus smiled at him.  
  
Throughout his pregnancy, Charlie had wondered what it would be like to experience his partner’s memory blackouts, but it had never been an issue until the worst possible moment. Severus had clearly experienced a lapse, probably caused by his anger, and the last he seemingly remembered was arriving home from his trip.  
  
He knew nothing about the argument at all, nothing to do with the letters. Charlie saw the two more paths ahead of him and swallowed, hard.  
  
His out had come, handed to him on a plate as easy as being served in a restaurant. Severus knew nothing of his correspondence with Christian, nothing of their argument and his own response to what he believed was a betrayal. It could be as though nothing had ever happened.  
  
Except, Charlie didn’t feel he could let it. He felt guilty enough. The one secret he had already kept had nearly ruined everything, and another would cripple him. Charlie didn’t lie, not big lies which would hurt people if the truth ever came to light. At least, before Christian, he had never lied to that extent.  
  
 _Oh, fuck it. Someone, somewhere hates me._  
  
Severus stood in front of him, his anxiety deepening in his expression with every passing moment that Charlie remained silent.   
  
_If he suddenly remembers, and you’ve not told him, that’s it. Nothing will be salvageable. But this… this you can use, you can work with it… he’s calm…_  
  
He had no idea if any of Severus’ lapses were fixed by themselves, whether the memories floated back to him without the need for deep mental exploration. Charlie wasn’t willing to take the risk, he found. He wanted nothing to risk what he could have with the man.  
  
His mother had always told him that honesty was the best policy, and there had been times when he had scoffed at her, and told her what people didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. At the time he’d been thinking about the weed stashed in his school trunk, but now his game had grown entirely more serious, far more heartfelt. He needed the game to remain a positive one.  
  
“Severus,” he said quietly, standing up straight and feeling his t-shirt stick to his gut and the small of his back. “I need you to do something for me.”  
  
 _All it is with you is take, take, take…_  
  
“We need to talk, but I want you to take Ron to Ollie’s for a bit, and ask him to babysit. Is that alright?”  
“Is he free?” Severus frowned. “I don’t want to intrude-”  
“He’s free, and he’s expecting you, so just go. Tell him I’m eternally grateful.” Charlie reached up and tried to squeeze the water out of his hair.  
“You’re worrying me,” Severus drifted closer, reaching out to pluck at the wet hem of the soggy t-shirt.  
  
“Just go,” Charlie looked at Ollie, his heart bursting with warmth to see his son again, though the separation could have been at most half an hour. The baby was still sleepy, and unaware of everything going on over his head. Charlie was glad. Their argument wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted his son to see. “And come back.”  
  
Severus obeyed his request, picking Ollie up and heading to the Floo.  
  
Charlie waited until the green flames had died down before he let out the breath he’d been clinging to, and he pulled out his wand to thoroughly dry his clothes. Warmth returned but didn’t quite spread to his bones, he noticed, and his hair was a lost cause. He moved to the mirror over the fireplace and groaned at his appearance. Mad curls accompanied a face pale beneath the freckled coating.  
  
Shaking his head slightly, he looked around at the rest of the room. It was mostly full of books and old furniture, all of which had an air of neglect about them. The carpet was worn beneath his feet and the wallpaper was faded. He frowned, drifting back to the hallway to try and look at the other rooms. They all seemed to be as dull as the living room.  
  
It surprised him. He knew that Severus wasn’t struggling for money, so he couldn’t quite match up the state of his house to the man. But then he also knew that money wasn’t everything –his own house was amazing and he had paid nothing towards it, and his parents house was stunning despite the fact they all expected it to fall over at any moment.  
  
It was the memories attached that made a house, not what was furnishing it. He immediately wanted the house he had been so desperate to escape back, feeling ashamed that he had ever regarded it as a prison.  
  
At the time, everything had seemed so valid, when he was sat alone and pregnant, fat, in pain and constantly tired. Everything had seemed like a curse rather than a blessing. With shameful eyes to the carpet he recognised just how lucky he had been.  
  
And how stupid he had been to risk throwing it all away.  
  
The Floo rushed and he jumped, turning to look at Severus.  
  
“Ron’s fine,” he kicked the soot from his boots. “Oh, good, you’ve dried yourself. You know, Charlie, I do worry about your sense of self-preservation sometimes. Like you go looking for things to present a problem for you,” a wry smile finished the sentence.  
  
Severus swiftly crossed to Charlie and snaked his arms around his waist. The kiss, when it came, was hot and sweet, a wet tongue worming into his mouth to comfort him in a way that Charlie felt he did not deserve.  
  
“So,” Severus finally stepped back, only when Charlie’s lips had been reddened with exertion. “What did you want to talk about? Should I be…”  
  
The word ‘worried’ was left unsaid, and Charlie shook his head. “Don’t panic, Severus. We just need to… I need to say some stuff and… well. Firstly, I think we both need a drink. And then you need to sit down.”  
“You’re not instilling much confidence,” Severus murmured, leaving the living room.  
  
Charlie had never seen the man after a lapse before; he could see the slight remnants in the dark eyes, and the gentle tone of Severus’ voice. He had no idea if his plan of honesty would make things worse for them both.  
  
“Here,” Severus handed him a tumbler of whiskey and gestured to the sofa. “So… spit it out, Charlie. You’re worrying me.”  
“I… look,” Charlie closed his eyes. “This isn’t going to be easy to hear, Severus. All I ask is that you don’t get angry until I’ve finished speaking. Then you can shout all you like, and I’ll willingly take it, because I’m an arse.”  
“Charlie,” he sighed disparagingly. “You are nothing of the sort.”  
“You haven’t heard why yet,” Charlie shot him a nervous look. “Before you and I… before you decided you wanted to be involved with me and Ollie… the night I ended up in hospital, I was dancing with a guy called Christian. He was about my age, Australian, blond… a nice guy. He could tell something wasn’t right, and was really upset when I collapsed.”  
  
Severus looked at him with questioning eyes. They had never talked about past conquests before.  
  
“And out of the blue, this bloke contacted me to ask if I was alright, and would I mind if we wrote to one another. Now… I know we were speaking then, and you wanted time to think about what you wanted. We were writing then. We continued writing to each other until last week.”  
“Last week?” Severus asked quietly.  
  
“I have to confess something,” Charlie held up a hand. “Let me?”  
“Go on,” Severus took a reserved sip of his drink.  
“He fell in love with me,” Charlie said quietly, looking down at his lap. “He said he loved me and I didn’t believe him, because, falling in love with someone you write to only happens in cheesy romance novels, right?”  
“Generally,” there was a threatening dryness to Severus’ tone which set Charlie’s heart thumping again.  
“I never said it back,” he said quickly. “Never, and I didn’t want to. I thought it was… odd, and I liked our friendship… but I…”  
  
He ground to a halt, his throat so tight he could barely breathe, let alone speak. Severus just waited for him to continue, but the atmosphere between them had soured.  
  
“Last week,” Charlie croaked finally. “When I came to you in the shop. It was because I’d accidentally run into him, and we went for a drink together… and when I admitted to him that I wasn’t ill, I was pregnant, and that Ollie was mine… he walked out on me.”  
“And that was what triggered your depression?” Severus twigged immediately –Charlie wasn’t sure whether his intelligence was helpful or going to plunge them both into disaster.  
“You pulled me out of it,” Charlie said immediately. “You, Severus, and I realised why I’d been writing to him… it was so stupid. I… I felt I needed a backup. I felt that I needed someone to go to if you left me, if you decided you didn’t want me… but I was an idiot. I didn’t see that you were too in love with me to ever have done that.”  
  
Severus shifted uncomfortably, “Yes,” he stated softly.  
“And that night, after you were gone, he wrote to me, saying that he regretted what he’d done, and he really wanted to move on with me. He wanted a relationship.”  
“And what did you do?” the words were tense, angry,  
“I told him that I was sorry, but I’d led him on, and I already had the future I wanted with you, and our son. I didn’t hear back.”  
“I’m not surprised,” Severus threw him a filthy look.   
  
“There’s more,” Charlie stopped him when he made to continue. “I kept the letters. Because I didn’t know how to get rid of them. They seemed a part of me, but I didn’t figure out until today that they were a bad part, hanging over me… and I just thought, for the closure, I would sit down and read them again, just once, and then I would burn them all.”  
  
“You told me none of this,” Severus whispered defeatedly. “You kept this from me.”  
“Because I was… running scared,” Charlie said wildly. “I didn’t know whether I was on my arse or my head and it was like that for a long time. I ignored the depression for so long I didn’t see it for what it was.  
  
“But tonight, whilst I was sitting there reading, you arrived home from Paris early,” Charlie closed his eyes. “You found the letters, Severus, and you went, obviously, mad. You told me to take my other path. You left with Ollie about an hour ago.”  
  
Severus had blanched white. “You mean that I… memory lapse?”  
“I think so,” Charlie took a mouthful of whiskey to stop his lips from trembling. He felt so inadequate, so juvenile next to the man on the sofa.  
  
He could see the thought processes working in Severus’ mind; saw him searching for any glimmer of the memories which Charlie was detailing to him. The silence stretched on and his grip on his glass became dangerous, and he didn’t think he could bear the tension a moment longer.  
  
 _You deserve tension, idiot. You deserve a rough ride after everything._  
  
“I’m sorry!” he burst out, jumping to his feet and staring desperately down into Severus’ face. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Severus for everything. For being so fucking selfish, all the time, for never seeing how fucking lucky I was. I’m sorry. Please say something, even if you’re just going to react the same way… don’t sit there looking at me like that. Don’t leave me hanging, even though that’s what I fucking deserve.”  
  
His outpouring broke the flood barrier within him, before he knew what he was doing he was mumbling apologies for everything he could remember doing which he considered to be self-centred, and for the things he hadn’t done.  
  
“I didn’t even know where you fucking lived,” he gasped. “I had to go to Ron and ask. Severus, I really don’t get why you’ve stuck around, I’m so-”  
“Enough,” Severus held up his hand, onyx eyes deep as he stared at Charlie.  
  
Charlie stopped mid-flow and looked worriedly down, a stray drop of rain trickling out of his hair and running down his neck. Severus got to his feet, set his drink on the mantelpiece, and stepped into Charlie’s personal space.  
  
Whatever came his way at that moment, Charlie knew he would take. If it was a hex and the end of their relationship, he felt he deserved it.  
  
The soft hands which skimmed over his hips were a surprise. The way the attached thumbs caressed him made his breath catch in his throat. He looked up into Severus’ face.  
  
“Okay,” Severus nodded, and kissed him.  
  
Charlie was too shocked to kiss him back. “What do you mean okay?” he asked weakly. “Severus, I… please…”  
“Charlie,” the voice was low and thin fingers landed beneath his chin and pulled it upward so that their eyes would meet. “I’ve spent much of my life lying professionally, and working with other liars. You never confess something like this unless you’re innocent, and slightly foolish, at the heart of it.”  
  
Charlie couldn’t speak. Severus ran his hands up to cup his face in between them, and kissed again.  
  
“You could have pretended nothing happened,” Severus nosed against him. “You could have left it as nothing. Whilst I’m not thrilled to learn, Charlie, that you spent better part of our relationship with a backup plan… your actions tonight make you the man I know you to be, rather than the one you are afraid you are.”  
“And you trust my account of everything that happened tonight?” he asked weakly, lowering his eyes. “When you saw the letters?”  
“I certainly won’t be searching for the memories,” an unusual flush coloured Severus’ face. “My own actions… stealing your son away from you… that was utterly deplorable, Charlie, and I should be seeking _your_ forgiveness, not the other way around.”  
“I understand, though,” Charlie dismissed him, shaking his head. “You didn’t believe that I loved him, or you, and you were just… protecting yourself. And Ollie. You said that you didn’t want to leave him with a parent that only tolerated him… that you had lived that, let it ruin you and…” he trailed off, ignoring the fact that his eyes were growing hot and wet.  
“Don’t cry,” Severus said, shaking his head. “There is _nothing_ to cry about. Nothing is ending.”  
“No?” Charlie asked, cursing his apparently insatiable need for assurance.  
  
Severus simply shook his head and said nothing. The silence which followed was different, peaceful and warm as they stood in each other’s arms. Charlie was incapable of speech; his throat had thickened beyond all reason. He fell forward, resting his head on Severus’ shoulder, and only then realised that he was shaking.  
  
Fingers began to stroke at his matted hair, lulling him into a beautiful sense of security which Charlie wasn’t sure he had ever quite felt before. He had loved, been held, but none of the arms had felt as good as Severus’ did.   
  
“Charlie?” Severus’ voice filtered down to him, and he froze in horror, wondering if that was when the blow would fall; if Severus was cruelly tricking him into believing that he was forgiven. “Stop,” Severus growled, forcing him backwards to look into his eyes. “I’m not going to change my mind. This is right. And _we_ are alright. I will not say it again, do you understand me?”  
  
The ringing voice from the classroom was back, and Charlie felt the harsh shake of his shoulders. “I know,” he whispered. “But I’m just a bit…”  
“Understandable,” Severus’ face softened. “But what I was going to say,” one hand smoothed up into Charlie’s hair again. “Is that I will never forget the sight of you dripping wet on my doorstep, your shirt stuck to your chest and your jeans falling down. Ever.”  
“Oh Merlin,” Charlie snorted. “I’m…” he broke off, snorting with laughter at his desperation. “I just needed to see you and the rain didn’t even register.”  
“Do you know…” Severus stroked a path across his cheek with a thumb. “Plenty of people, Charlie, have thrown me away in their lives. Tonight is a night of two firsts for me.”  
  
Charlie waited, frightened to hear what was coming next.  
  
“For the first time in my life, I was apparently the one to walk away,” Severus’ eyes dropped to their chests then. “And, also for the first time in my life, someone chased me.”  
“I had to,” Charlie shook his head. “I couldn’t let you go, Severus.”  
  
A tentative smile was his answer before they dissolved into another kiss. Charlie threw himself into it, locking Severus tightly in his arms and squashing into his thin body. Their physical differences screamed at him, Charlie’s own muscle should have overpowered Severus’ thin form, but he was content to stand and merely battle with tongues and nothing else. It was very obvious where they were leading, and blood began to pound in his ears.  
  
“Charlie…” Severus murmured against his lips. “Please tell me this is going where I pray its going?”  
“I might kill someone if it doesn’t,” Charlie groaned, as Severus’ hips rocked against him.  
“Upstairs,” Severus pulled away from him, snatching up his hand immediately and blocking the Floo. “Now…”  
  
Charlie couldn’t decide who was tugging who as he grinned madly going up the dark stairs of Severus’ house. The hand holding his was tight, possessive, and it sent tingles up his arm and through his chest. When they reached the bedroom, Severus pushed him against the wall and drove every inch of that possession into Charlie’s mouth.  
  
He was on fire.  
  
He fumbled with the buttons on the front of Severus’ shirt, ripping them open without care, and put his fingers to the warm chest which he had woken up to that morning. Severus moaned at his touch, hissing when Charlie tweaked at his nipples.  
  
“Sev… mmph…” Charlie’s mouth was full of a tongue which was not his own, and he neglected the man’s chest to grab his hair, dragging him back slightly. “Severus… the bed.”  
“Eight fucking months and you’re requesting a bed?” Severus gaped at him. “You’re lucky I didn’t take you over the back of the damned sofa!”  
  
Charlie shoved him back towards the bed, laughing, and when Severus fell he crawled on top of him on all fours, lowering his head for another searing kiss.  
  
“I was so afraid you’d left me,” he moaned, as long fingers sank into his hair. “So afraid, Severus.”  
  
There was no answer, only another kiss and nimble fingers working at the button of his jeans. Charlie pushed the shirt back off of Severus’ shoulders and ducked down to suck along his collarbone. When he reached the pale throat, he licked it in a line to Severus’ ear, where he gently nipped on his earlobe.  
  
“Why would I leave somebody with such a talented tongue?” Severus almost purred in his ear, and Charlie shivered.  
“Dunno, glad you didn’t though,” he rolled onto his back, kicking out of his jeans and worming out of his underwear shortly afterward.  
“Or a man who can become naked as quickly as you,” Severus sent his shirt to the floor, before rolling on top of Charlie and straddling him. Charlie let his hands go as his wrists were gathered and pinned above his head.  
  
Severus attacked him with a deep kiss, Charlie bucked against the hold and they both groaned.  
  
“It’s been far too long,” Charlie looked up desperately. “I’ve wanted this for months… when I was pregnant…”  
“Don’t you think that I wanted it too?” Severus asked disbelievingly. “Don’t you think that it drove me to insanity to sit there and hug and hold you, to see your morning erections and not even think about progressing?”  
“You were just scared of the bump,” Charlie gasped.  
“No, I was scared of ruining things.”  
“And then I did it for us.”  
  
There was a moment of silence before Charlie felt the pressure on his wrists grow uncomfortably tight. Severus glared at him, looking in the eye.  
  
“Weasley,” he hissed. “If you mention it again, I will get off the bed, and I’ll throw you out. I have forgiven you, now forgive your bloody self –and can we please, _please_ have sex?”  
“Done,” Charlie breathed weakly, shocked at the fervour in Severus’ voice.  
  
His hands were released and they sprang, as though they had a life of their own, to Severus’ back, running in long sweeps up and down either side of his spine. Dark hair dripped over pale shoulders and tickled his chest; Charlie lifted his head and latched his lips to Severus’ throat again.  
  
Severus began to tremble in his arms as he lay perfectly still and let Charlie work. Gently he rolled him onto his back, lowering one hand to pop the button of the plain black trousers that Severus wore.  
  
“Sod this,” Severus breathed. “Evanesco.”  
“I was enjoying that,” Charlie pouted. “Undressing you…”  
“Too slow,” Severus shook his head, and looked down at his body. “And to be honest, doing it quickly, painlessly… probably the best way for me.”  
“You’re perfect,” Charlie said warningly, daring Severus to contradict him as he smoothed his palm down the perfectly flat stomach and sank his fingertips into inky curls. “So fucking perfect I’ve been so obsessed with seeing you…”  
  
He kissed down the belly he had just touched, keeping his lips light and his licks heavy. He dropped into Severus’ navel as he passed, which made the man squirm, and then he took in a deep breath before sucking the head of the waiting cock into his mouth. He moaned, he couldn’t help it –the cock was heavy on his tongue, and perfect.  
  
Hands pressed into his head, holding it in place and Charlie moaned around his mouthful, licking sloppily against the underside. His mind was swimming as he thought about where it was all going, what they were finally going to get to do with one another. He couldn’t believe his second chance had come, and it had worked.  
  
“Definitely a talented mouth,” Severus breathed harshly above him, arching his hips up into Charlie’s face. More of the cock slid into his mouth and he tried to relax, not letting his gag reflex, which had been so overused of late, disrupt the sucking. “Is this how you apologise for everything?”  
  
Charlie sat up, his lips wet with his own spit, and smirked. “It can be. Decide on your apologetic payment now, and we can work out a schedule…”  
  
Severus lazily sat up to meet him, and they kissed. It was noisy and clumsy, but perfect for the warmth they needed.  
  
“Is it wrong that I just want to fuck you?” Severus mumbled shamefully, his eyes closing and his cheeks coming to life with colour.  
“No,” Charlie shook his head gently. “Not at all, Severus… in fact…”  
  
He fell sideways, landing on his side, before he turned halfway onto his front, bringing one knee up so it was bent on the bed next to him. It would give Severus the perfect view of everything he wanted to see –everything he had been prevented from touching before that evening. One hand smoothed over his arse, playing with the fuzz there, and the cool fingers slipped in between his crack to massage over his hole. Charlie nuzzled into the bedcover, wishing the fingers were slick, that one would spread him open.  
  
When one entered, as greased as he’d dreamed, he whimpered. It pressed further into him, not hurting as much as the night before, on their failed attempt at intercourse, and he grinned to the bed, glad he could enjoy it. A second joined the first, twisting its way inward, causing the burn to heighten.  
  
Severus had such long fingers that Charlie wondered if anybody had ever stretched him as thoroughly, when three were sliding in and out of his body he began to shiver. As they spread, forcing his passage open, he chewed into his lip. When they thrust in and out in quick succession, his cock leaked stickiness onto the bed.  
  
 _Ruining more of his sheets! Dammit!_  
  
“Enough,” he groaned over his shoulder. “Severus…”  
  
The fingers slid out of him, and he mourned their loss with a shudder. His body felt wide open and he heard Severus muttering another lubrication spell.  
  
“Can you do the contraceptive spell?” he asked over his shoulder. “I trust you.”  
  
The night before he had had to perform it himself, twice, before he felt comfortable. But lying there so comfortably, naked and stretched, he gave the responsibility to Severus, who had never failed him. He hissed at the coolness of the spell, and waited for it to fade, counting the seconds before it would pass.  
  
“Gone?” Severus smoothed a hand up the back of his thigh.  
“Gone,” Charlie confirmed, and forced the thought of the spell away. He would not let his fears ruin the night they had been waiting so, so long for.  
  
Severus’ weight layered over him, a longer leg running along the outside of his outstretched one, the other bent on the inside of his. They fitted together perfectly and Charlie’s lack of extra height meant that Severus could kiss cheek as, without any warning or preamble, Charlie felt his body be entered for the first time in over nine months.  
  
“Oh fuck…” he hissed happily, loving the feel of Severus’ cock burying itself deep within him. “So good, Severus, so good… ah…” he broke off, gasping and grunting at his surprise at the depth of the angle.  
“You…” Severus kissed his ear, “Feel perfect. _Are_ perfect.”  
  
Arms curled around him and Charlie felt the sole of a foot smooth over his own. Severus was right, everything was perfect. There would be plenty of time for mad fucking, fucks where neither of them could do anything but pound away until their climaxes came, but for the first time, as sentimental as it made him, Charlie knew their way was the right one.  
  
The hips behind him began to roll in a gentle rhythm, pressing harder with every repeat. Severus was somehow kissing Charlie’s neck, the sucks wet and marking. He moaned at that, too, and humped his cock into the bed, the feeling of being trapped perfect. He needed to feel loved, and cherished, and Severus was giving him everything he wanted.  
  
And though he had set out not to be selfish, Charlie knew that by submitting, by giving himself to Severus and letting him act in that way, he was satisfying the man he loved. He himself had never had a preference, willing to chop and change as his partners needed. Charlie knew, as the rolling turned to determined thrusts, that he would happily spend his life on the bottom.   
  
“Charlie, you are so… tight,” Severus gasped raggedly in his ear.  
“I haven’t been fucked in… in… oh fuck… over a year!” Charlie keened as the thrusts lodged deeper into his body. “Not since you… nobody… uh!”  
  
Speaking was pointless, they were both gasping, the heat rising between them and sweat was tingling on Charlie’s brow, and in the small of his back, making Severus slip against him. Charlie groaned aloud thinking of truly slicking the man’s body up, with oil, and being fucked that way.  
  
“Nobody should think that hard during sex,” Severus murmured in his ear.  
“Thinking about you,” Charlie purred. “And all the things we can do together now we’re doing this…”  
“Good,” Severus licked the inner shell of his ear and Charlie cried out to bedroom, the wetness sending fresh blood down to his trapped cock.   
“Touch me…”  
  
The hand which wormed between Charlie’s hip and the bed was quick. He didn’t have time to prepare himself as Severus wrapped his fingers around the throbbing shaft and began to stroke in muted movements, letting the bed help him into massaging Charlie to completion.  
  
“So good… so good… fucking yes…” the words were loud, and he didn’t know where they were coming from. He tried to stick to groans which didn’t make him feel like an idiot, but he was out of control, and he knew that he wouldn’t last.  
  
It was comforting when Severus growled in his ear and began to properly fuck him, drawing out to the tip before plunging back in and repeating all over again. The rhythm caused Charlie to grow dizzy, his cock rubbing in a soft palm and on soft sheets, and his arse wrung out with pleasure which burned all the way into the base of his spine.  
  
“I want you,” Severus choked into his ear, before his face fell forward, dark hair falling over both of their heads, and he poured his orgasm into Charlie’s body.  
  
Charlie held his breath; he had been terrified of this moment, secretly. Until the night before he had never voiced it to anybody, his fears that, at the moment of ejaculation, he would lose it, fearful of the sperm impregnating him again.  
  
But there was nothing but the coiled pleasure in his squashed belly and cock, and the feeling of the spunk inside him was what it had always been –delicious, dirty and something he craved more of. It was relief as much as desire which drove him over the edge, only a second later, as Severus groaned his name directly into Charlie’s ear.  
“Sev-er-us…” he moaned, closing his eyes as his hips bucked forward into the bed, and he came.  
  
It was a thousand times better than any of the self-induced orgasms he’d had during his pregnancy, and even the ones afterward which Severus had brought him to. It torched his veins to nothing and left him a shivering wreck, his prick continuing to twitch long after he had initially spilt. Severus was holding him tight, the sweat between their bodies causing him to slide against the strong back he rested on.  
  
The first wave of euphoria rolled over Charlie, making him tired and happy, lost in the sensation of Severus softening inside of him. Everything that he had been too drunk to pay attention to the last time he drank in, making sure that he committed it to memory so that he might never forget it.  
  
A gentle kiss was pressed into his hair before Severus gently pulled out of him. Charlie winced at the soreness but even enjoyed that, leaving his legs spread open to feel the juice of the other man slide down his thigh.  
  
He gasped when something cool brushed over his entrance and fingers swiftly invaded him once again.  
  
“Again?” he asked weakly, turning his head, but Severus only smiled at him and gestured with a pot of translucent balm.  
“No point in denying it’s been a long time and hurting yourself,” Severus removed his fingers with one final caress to the puckered skin, and reached for his wand.  
  
Charlie sat up, revelling in the care that Severus seemed determined to lavish upon him, and felt the gentle sweep of a hygiene spell over his skin. There was a hot blush over Severus’ cheekbones, and blotches on his neck and chest. They were a product of their union, so they were beautiful rather than ugly, and the sated cock lolling on the man’s thigh drew Charlie’s eyes in and would not release them.  
  
He went when Severus reached for him, surprised to find himself dragged all the way to sit in between the spread thighs, with protective arms around his waist. Charlie looked into Severus’ face and smiled.  
  
“That was everything it should have been, and more,” he said quietly.  
“I thought so too,” Severus leant forward, resting his head against Charlie’s. “And so now we are…”  
“Partners? Boyfriends?” Charlie grinned.  
“Partners, I think,” Severus looked embarrassed. “I think at forty-one boyfriend is a little…”  
“Don’t care what you are,” Charlie shook his head. “As long as you’re mine.”  
“Oh, very suave,” Severus’ eyes quirked with amusement, and he kissed Charlie almost chastely on the lips.  
“I have to make up for my behaviour somehow,” Charlie swallowed, dropping his gaze to his naked thighs. “And the fact that I ruined more of your bed sheets.”  
“Don’t worry about the first ones,” Severus dismissed. “That wasn’t my flat; I had rented it whilst I needed to be in London for an extended period for work. It was easier to be close to the shop…”  
“I hope you didn’t leave the mess for someone else to clean up,” Charlie grinned.  
“Never, I am always meticulous.”  
“Which might be a disaster considering as I’m kind of a ‘pull-a-rug-over-it’ bloke…” he winced apologetically.  
  
Severus scowled slightly, but said nothing, and Charlie yawned.   
“Tired?”  
“You have no idea how fucking knackering it is to think that someone’s leaving you,” Charlie whined. “My guts feel like they’ve been through the wringer.”  
“Did you hesitate?” Severus asked quietly, lowering his eyes. “Did you think about not coming after us, Charlie?”  
  
Damning his honest will to hell and back, Charlie sighed and said, “Yes. For about twenty minutes. The longest twenty minutes of my life, and that includes waiting for you to turn up when I was in labour.”  
“Is that a fair switch then?” Severus asked. “Am I forgiven for that, if I forgive you for hesitating?”  
“I think I owe you more than that,” Charlie snorted. “I deserved a slap and yet again you didn’t give me it.”  
“Never,” Severus’ eyes were suddenly serious. “I would never do that to you. It reminds me of things I would much rather forget.”  
“Not even if I was hysterical?” Charlie arched an eyebrow, trying to lighten the tone.  
“I’ve seen you hysterical,” Severus dismissed.  
“Have not.”  
“I seem to remember hysteria one night in January. When you dropped the milk bottle?”  
“Ah,” Charlie hissed, blushing. “The phrase ‘crying over spilt milk’ had never been more appropriate.”  
  
“It seems like we have been through so much…” Severus mused. “And yet we’ve only just arrived at the good part.”  
“About fucking time,” Charlie dropped his face into his hands, yawning.  
  
“I do know,” Severus said softly, and Charlie looked up in between his fingers.  
“Know what?”  
“What it is like to think somebody is leaving you. And I know what it feels like when they do… so I completely understand how tense you are inside, Charlie. You should rest, sleep it off. The shock will get you soon enough.”  
  
“I’m not sure I want to close my eyes,” Charlie screwed up his face. “Might wake up and find this was all a hopeful joke by my brain…”  
“It’s not,” Severus promised him. “I’ll be here with you.”  
“As you always should have been,” Charlie kissed him, before easing out of his lap to lie flat on the bed.  
  
He was tired, but he wasn’t bone-tired as he had experienced during his pregnancy. He stretched out, flexing his toes and arching his spine.  
  
“I love watching you do that,” Severus said, lying down next to him and curling into Charlie’s side.   
“You just love watching me in general,” Charlie said confidently, an infectious grin stretching his lips wide.  
“Very, very true,” Severus sighed, dropping his head on Charlie’s shoulder.  
  
“Severus?”  
“Mm?”  
“Are you really happy selling this place?” Charlie swallowed. “If you don’t want to, I can-”  
“I can’t wait to be rid of the old dump,” Severus answered immediately. “I am moving in to yours, as long as you don’t mind.”  
“Move in tomorrow,” Charlie begged immediately. “Just pack it up and bring it. We’ll add another level, and it’ll be perfect.”  
“Sounds it,” Severus agreed with a nod, and Charlie watched the delicately coloured eyelids close, felt the gentle sigh of breath wash over his skin. “A family. Despite my nature, Charlie, that is what I have always wanted.”  
“I want a family with you,” Charlie smiled. “And Ollie… and that dog I’ve still not got.”  
  
He kissed into the silky black hair and felt it brush over his skin. He suddenly wanted it to be daylight, so he could explore every inch of the delicious body cuddled into him, and truly see it in brightness.  
  
“I thought I heard the Floo alarm earlier,” Severus murmured. “But we were… otherwise occupied, so…”  
“They can wait,” Charlie muttered. “They can all wait. Right now, Severus, the only person I want to think about, the only person I want to acknowledge even exists in the world, is you, because that’s what you deserve.”  
  
He wriggled down slightly and turned his face to Severus, who was looking at him with wet eyes.  
  
“Don’t you dare,” Charlie warned. “One of us has to be a man and, as I popped an anklebiter out of me this year, it sure as hell ain’t gonna be me…”  
  
Severus’ laugh was dark and rich when it came, lighting up his whole face, taking years off of his age. The solemnity melted away, and in its place it looked as though there was a different man.  
  
Charlie watched, a smile on his face, and opened his mouth to speak when a silver wolfhound burst through the wall of the bedroom.  
  
 _“Charlie, we need you –Ron’s been attacked. Fucking Malfoy bastarding scum. St. Mungo’s, quickly.”_  
  
They both froze, staring at one another in deepening horror.  
  
“Ollie!”   
  
They both hissed the name at the same time and threw themselves off the bed to search for clothes. Charlie felt sick, Severus looked it, and their thoughts mirrored each other’s.  
  
“If that son-of-a-whore has done _anything_ to our son,” Charlie yanked his t-shirt over his head. “Or badly hurt my brother,” he nearly trapped his cock in the zip of his jeans with his shaking fingers. “You like visiting Azkaban, right?”  
  
Severus’ look was equally murderous, and as Charlie stepped up to him, he was grabbed in a tight hold. The jerk of angry apparition was horrendous, but Charlie could only think of one thing –finding his son.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Accidental and unwanted MPreg, Angst, Language, mentions of violence. Fluff.

People were looking at them as they ran, hand-in-hand, through the corridors of the hospital, but Charlie didn’t care. He had no idea what to think or do; he only had to know who had his baby. Severus kept up his pace but the grip he kept on Charlie’s hand would have bruised lesser bones. The MediWitch had hinted to the emergency ward, and when he thought about that, Charlie’s heart threatened to pop out of his chest and create a very new emergency right in the middle of the corridors.

 

“I’ll kill him,” he muttered beneath his breath for the fiftieth time. Severus’ grunt of assent came back supportively, and then Charlie pushed through the large swing door he found marked with ‘emergency’ in defined letters. “George!”

 

George’s head snapped round and his tense expression melted with relief. “Thank fuck, you took your time.”

“Where’s Ollie?” Charlie ignored him, jumping to the pressing question which, though he couldn’t help it, tumbled out first before he could even formulate an enquiry about Ron.

“I dunno,” George shrugged. “He’s your sprog, Charlie, not mine!”

“But he’s-”

“Fit him with a tracking charm so that the next time you lose him, you can find him,” George scrubbed his hands over his face.

“He was with Ron, George, whilst we…”

 

He looked at Severus, flushing slightly. George looked at them both, and then his eyes alighted on their tightly clasped hands.

 

“So, whilst you two were…” his eyes glimmered with amusement as his eyebrows rose, “Ron was babysitting? Char, Ollie’s not here.” The amusement sputtered and died, melting to anxiety in a second.

 

Charlie didn’t have time to let the desperation spread, because at that moment Bill stepped out of the room to their right, his face pale. “Ron’s alright, been through the mill though.”

“Bill, did you see Ollie anywhere? Ron was babysitting.”

 

He heard the words, but the numbness was eclipsing everything –nobody knew where his child was, his defenceless baby was alone.

 

“I was there, I didn’t see him in the flat,” Bill’s voice was half a yelp and the pressure on Charlie’s hand heightened to agony.

 

It jerked him out of the mini-trance he’d sunk into; he was turning and running back the way he had come, hearing shouts of warning behind him.

 

“That’s my son,” he threw over his shoulder, ignoring them all as power truly flowed through his legs. The shock was propelling him forward, but suddenly, to Charlie, it didn’t feel as unfamiliar as it might have done.

 

As he ran through the clinical walls of magical London’s hospital, the smells of burning wood and the roars of angry beasts came back to him. It was not the first time he had ever run somewhere to save someone. Skidding to a halt to throw open the door to the stairs, he saw Severus catching him up. It was hard not to laugh, all of a sudden, to see someone so austere legging it towards him.

 

_But he’s every bit as fast as you are._

“Do you think he’s alright?” Charlie asked pointlessly.

“If he’s not, take my wand away from me and lock me up somewhere,” Severus demanded. “Because I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

 

Charlie grabbed his hand again and grinned on the strange adrenalin pumping through his veins.

 

***

“Harry,” Charlie yanked the Auror over by his arm and continued, “Ron was babysitting Ollie. Has someone got him, have you seen him, was he taken-?”

 

He stared at the emerald eyes, which widened.

 

“No,” Harry shook his head. “No, it seemed that Ron was the only person in the flat at the time.”

“He wasn’t,” Severus interrupted. “I left Ollie with him at around quarter to seven and he was fine, if a little… withdrawn, then.”

“And I saw him ten minutes before that and he was the same,” Charlie slipped into the flat and saw that it had been completely trashed, mainly by spell damage. “Fucking hell! Ollie?”

 

_And now you’re shouting to a baby. Who doesn’t even really smile at you yet, let alone fucking talk._

“Search,” Harry said automatically. “If Ron had the baby, he would have tried to protect him when he had to. Probably got himself more injured because of it. Any word from the hospital?”

“He’s fine apparently,” Charlie hated that he hadn’t even seen Ron yet, but he stormed through to the kitchen.

 

“This is ridiculous,” Severus hissed suddenly, and yanked out his wand, before casting a sensory sweep over the entire flat. Charlie waited, his heart thudding painfully against his ribcage. “Try the bedroom,” Severus’ voice was uncertain.

 

Charlie carted about instantly, shoving Harry out of the way, and threw himself over the bed -walking around it would only have slowed him down. Only then did he notice the pale blue light glowing through the wardrobe door. Pulling it open, his eyes fell.

 

“Ollie!” he dropped to his knees, looking at the pearly shield around his son, who looked content for the most part. His curious eyes followed the sheen of the barrier separating them. “Severus!”

 

Charlie reached out and pressed his fingers to the shield, hoping that Ron would have cast permission magic to allow him through. His fingers hit a wall, however, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t permeate it. Desperation thickened his throat, even though he could see his son was fine.

 

A deep Latin mutter dropped over his head, and the shield seemed to pop, almost like a bubble, and Charlie’s hands dropped straight onto his baby.

 

“Oh fucking hell,” Charlie scooped Ollie up and jumped to his feet, clutching him desperately to his chest. “Severus…”

 

Severus wasn’t listening, he was too busy muttering beneath his breath and casting odd diagnostic tests on Ollie that Charlie had no chance of recognising. His baby began to glow slightly and he looked up, terrified, at Severus.

 

“Sorry,” he jerked his head irritably and cut the spells. “He’s fine, no damage. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.”

“So… Ron must have put him in here to protect him,” Charlie peered at the walk-in wardrobe as Severus flicked the light on. “Wow! Draco and Ron have some _really_ kinky shit!” Charlie breathed, eyes widening.

 

“He put our child in his sex toy cupboard?” Severus growled, looking around at the clothes, shoes, and very obvious sexual aides on the shelf above the rack holding Ron’s robes.

“Severus, I don’t think he would have had much time to really consider where he stuffed him,” Charlie’s mind was dizzying with relief; he held Ollie tight and fixed his eyes on the items to try and retain his composure. “Ooh, cherry flavoured lube. And body paint! I’m taking that,” he threw an inquisitive look at Severus.

 

They had both been wracked with tension so quickly after their pleasant evening that Severus looked as though he was torn between weeping and laughing. Eventually a smile won out, and he smirked as he said, “Don’t tell him about this. I have a feeling he’d be somewhat mortified that his old Professor was looking at his rather ample collection of plugs.”

 

Charlie snorted and shivered slightly, looking down at Ollie on his chest, who looked back with big eyes. “Hey Ollie-chops. Gods, I missed you.” He kissed him on the head. “And now me and your Dad are just fine. No more living apart.”

 

He would never have guessed what a simple relief it would be to hold his child in his arms. His stomach hadn’t returned to normality, it was still twisted from the moment when they’d received George’s message. His fingers began to tremble as he held onto his son.

  
“Charlie, just breathe,” Severus murmured in his ear, before wrapping his arms around his waist. “You’ve had a… most people don’t experience this amount of trauma in a year, let alone a day. Calm down. We’re fine.”  
“How are you so calm?!” he burst out grumpily.

“I threatened to kill someone,” Severus arched a testy eyebrow. “Is that calm?”

“No,” Charlie sagged back against the doorframe and let Severus crowd into him.

 

They shared a kiss and he moaned.

 

“Aren’t you worried about Ron?” Severus asked quietly.

“Terrified,” Charlie shrugged. “But Ron wasn’t my priority at that moment, was he? Our son was. And _now_ I will go and rip out Draco Malfoy’s spine.”

“Wrong generation of Malfoy,” Harry’s voice cut through the calming ambience which Severus was pouring over Charlie’s body with gentle strokes of his upper arms.

 

“What do you mean?” Charlie frowned.

“It was Lucius,” Harry’s face was a scowl. “Draco’s at the hospital, with Ron.”

“What the fuck happened?”

 

“From what we can tell, Lucius found out about their relationship, and wanted to eliminate the problem. So he tried.”

 

Harry was shaking with anger, his fingers clenching.

 

“Harry, you shouldn’t be working,” Charlie said softly. “Go back to the hospital and be with Ron. It’s not right that you’re here doing this…”

“I volunteered,” Harry shrugged.

 

“I can’t believe him,” Severus’ voice was icy as it hissed out of his mouth. “Of all the fucking despicable, low and cruel things to do, the fucking cu-”

 

Charlie blinked once and covered Ollie’s ears. The obscenity spewing from Severus’ mouth wasn’t suitable for Charlie’s ears, let alone a baby’s. Harry had gone rather pale, staring shocked as Severus let out his rant, using the same choice words over and over until it seemed like his voice failed him.

 

“Does your brother keep alcohol in this flat?” he asked Charlie abruptly.

“Whiskey in the kitchen,” Charlie breathed, watching him storm out of the room in whirl of black and glossy hair.

 

_I’m going to bet good money and say that shouldn’t have made me hard._

 

Nevertheless, Charlie was glad his jeans were baggy and his erection wouldn’t show.

 

“He’s scary when he’s upset,” Harry murmured.

“As long as he’s not upset at me I don’t really care,” Charlie shivered, his arousal wilting remembering the earlier part of their evening.

 

***

“Oh, thank God, you found him,” Bill grabbed Charlie into a hug, squashing Ollie between them.

“He’s fine,” Charlie nodded. “Ron must have protected Ollie first and himself later… I think I should get him looked over though, just to be sure…”

 

He looked to Severus for assurance, but the man merely rolled his eyes and looked away.

 

_Overprotective mother… Severus’ tests were as good as any would be here…_

“Or not,” he sighed, kissing Ollie’s forehead again and smiling. “How’s Ron?”

“Awake, and desperate to see you, so…” Bill gestured at the door, and yawned. “I’m going to go home for a bit and check on Fleur, she’s so close I don’t like leaving her for long periods.”

 

Bill tickled the end of Ollie’s nose with a soft look in his eye, and Charlie grinned. “Go home. We’ll take over. Where’s mum?”

“Being calmed down by dad in the cafeteria,” Bill grimaced. “You missed the hysteria.”

“Good good,” Charlie said cheerfully with a wink, and watched Bill disappear.

“You can get him looked over if you want,” Severus said immediately. “It is probably a good idea…”

“He’s fine, and we’re right here,” Charlie shrugged at the hospital. “Now, you hold him,” he shifted the baby to Severus. “And don’t you dare fucking let go, y’hear me?”

“Completely understood.”  
  
Charlie saw that Severus’ own grip on their son was as tight as his had been, and he relaxed. “I have to go and be dragon keeper strong for Ron now, so… come with me?”

“Am I welcome?” Severus looked almost nervously at the door, and Charlie’s heart melted just a tiny bit.

“Family now,” Charlie grimaced. “Sadly for you.”

 

Severus said nothing as he followed Charlie to the door, but he was smiling.

  
“Can’t you keep out of trouble for five fucking seconds?!” Charlie asked exasperatedly as he entered the room, heading straight to Ron’s side and picking up his hand.

“Agh shuddup,” Ron groaned. “Ollie?”

“Fine,” Charlie pointed at Severus. “Thank you, Ron. Thank you so much.”

 

_I’ve finally turned into my mother._

It was the only thought in his mind as he ducked and grabbed Ron in a hug, kissing gruffly into the side of his face with a relieved growl. Ron smiled next to him but couldn’t return the hug.

 

“So come on,” Charlie pulled back. “Who do I need to kill, and why?”

“Erm… it’s… Lucius Malfoy… vengeance… thought Ollie was mine and then he… he decided he was having him, to replace the son I’d stolen from him…”

“Fucking-”

“Shut up,” Charlie threw at Severus, returning the harshness which Severus took with him when he grew out of control. “Keep calm and hold the baby or else. You wouldn’t believe the things he said earlier,” Charlie grinned at Ron, though inside his blood boiled with anger. Lucius Malfoy had wanted _his_ son. The thought of Ollie being raised in such a rigid, controlling family sent terror through his veins.

 

“Draco?” He looked at the blond, who was sat by the side of the bed, holding Ron’s other hand with a greyish face and lips which were in a tight line. “What happened?”

“This evening I was meant to be dining with my parents, when I arrived, my father wasn’t there, my mother was in tears; she told me where he had gone and what he planned to do.”

“I was fucking lucky he turned up when he did,” Ron coughed. “Because at that point Lucius was sending stunners at me every three seconds, trying to stop me from fighting...”  
“How bad is it?” Severus asked, almost sympathetically.

 

Charlie was used to Severus’ way, but to everybody else he probably still looked cold, unfeeling. Ron’s eyes showed surprise, but he answered politely.

 

“Five broken ribs, something ruptured and a _really_ fucked up flat,” Ron grimaced. “As you’ve probably seen.”  
“Yeah, we also saw what was in your wardrobe,” Charlie teased, giving Ron a wink.

“Oh, bollocks.”  
“Yeah. I’m taking the lube.”

“Can we not have this conversation?” Ron whimpered. “I’m really high on pain potion and it’s just…”

“I’m just messing,” Charlie picked up Ron’s large hand in between his own and held it warmly. “So grateful, Ron… you always seem to pick me up.”

“Yeah, well… someone’s got to,” Ron looked away, embarrassed.

“And now I get to repay the favour, someone’s got to sort your flat out, wait on you in your sickbed....”

 

“So, where is Lucius now?”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Charlie hissed, surprised at the force in his voice. “Sit down and shut up. You can’t kill him, neither can I. I am not losing you to fucking prison because you couldn’t keep your wand in check!”

“I thought I asked to stop talking about sex?” Ron pleaded, diffusing the tension, and Charlie snorted. “Is everything… between you two?” Ron looked between him and Severus. “Earlier, you were off the planet, Char…”

“Things are fine,” Charlie promised. “Better than fine. Severus is moving in, and we’re in love. Happy?”

“Muchly,” Ron grinned sleepily, closing his eyes. “So good to hear you’re finally fucking him.”

 

“Do you all discuss sex in the open?” Severus sighed.

“Generally,” they answered together, turning to look at him.

 

He stared back, and then looked down at Ollie with a despairing sigh. “I’m going to look into infant earplugs.”

 

Charlie’s eyes settled on Draco then, who had fallen silent again. It wasn’t hard to see the turmoil battling behind the grey eyes, and he searched for the right thing to say, if there was such a thing. He saw something spark in the stormy irises and a sense of creeping trepidation stole away with his gut.

 

“I’m sorry,” Draco murmured suddenly, getting to his feet, the chair scraping on the floor. He dropped the hand of Ron’s he held. “I have to leave. Ron…”

 

Charlie knew immediately that it was not the sort of moment that he should be present for, but he had no option as the younger Malfoy bent, pressed a kiss to Ron’s lips, and left the room without looking back.

 

“Just fucking brilliant…” Ron breathed, closing his eyes and becoming a horizontal block of stone, his face pained from more than just his physical injuries.

 

Getting to his feet, Charlie made eyes at Severus, widening them and jerking his head suddenly at Ron.

 

‘What?’ Severus mouthed.

‘Distract him with the baby’ Charlie replied, pointing at Ollie and then Ron. ‘I’ll-‘ he pointed after Draco.

 

Severus stared at him madly for a moment, then took a deep breath and nodded. Charlie darted quietly through the door and into the corridor. Draco’s step was slow, and that was how he had only reached the first bend of the hallway.

 

“Draco,” Charlie called, breaking into a jog and catching up to him. “Wait.”

 

He locked one hand around the thin upper arm, but the blond didn’t even flinch. His face was just a mask of almost-death.

 

“You’re leaving him?” Charlie asked quietly, looking into the forlorn face.  
“What other option do I have?” Draco shrugged. “If they don’t arrest my father, which is likely, he’ll just do it again. And again. If he bought his way out of Azkaban after the war, he can buy his way out of this.”

“So what’s the price for you?” Charlie folded his arms over his chest. “Losing your name, family inheritance?”

“The whole lot,” Draco looked at him then, his eyes narrowing.

“It’s a tough decision to make,” Charlie leant on the wall. “And not one that I could make easily.”  
“ _Your_ family would never ask this of you, never demand it. If they had reservations, they would overcome them… and they have, for Severus.”  
“And you,” Charlie pointed out. “Look, all I want to say is that you know Ron’s worth it. Look what he did to protect a child which isn’t even his own. It’s all or nothing with him.”

“I know.”

“What happened to wanting his complete devotion?” Charlie asked softly. “What happened to that Draco?”

“After all of it, he’s just a spoilt daddy’s boy who can’t let it go,” Draco sneered, and turned away.

 

“He needs you,” Charlie forced more steel into his tone. “He’s just had the shit hexed out of him, for you, Draco. Are you really going to walk away from him now? And what you have?”

“Why are you doing this?” Draco turned quickly.

“Because Ron went after Severus for me. I owe him more than I can repay. I have to try for this, as a start…” Charlie looked at the floor.

 

“My mother would be distraught.”

“Your mother might like to focus on what’s making her son happy, and the man he is, rather than the one she thinks she ought to have and shape to her will.”

“Charlie, it’s not that easy…” one graceful hand dragged through platinum hair. “It’s everything gone, a childhood I remember… they weren’t always the people you know and loathe now, they were… when I was little… they were parents. Like you are to Ollie.”

 

Charlie severely doubted that Lucius Malfoy had ever nearly swung a baby Draco into a shelf of tins in the supermarket, but he held back his comment. He swallowed and said, “But now what are they doing? Parents don’t stay gods forever, they make mistakes.”

 

_Which is what you’re so, so afraid of._

“Ron needs you,” Charlie said simply. “We both know that. He also needs me, and I’ll be there for him, but you can give him more than I can. Just think about it, Draco. The hard option isn’t always the… bad option.”

 

He winced, knowing he was a hypocrite. He thought of all the times he had wailed, moped, bemoaned his existence and wanted to be someone else in the past year. He had certainly feared the hard option. But he had been forced, and Draco had the option.

 

“Think about it,” Charlie begged, and walked away, feeling the sad grey gaze on his back as he headed back to Ron’s room.

 

He slipped back through the door, seeing that Severus had moved closer to the bed and was holding Ollie so that Ron could talk to him and play with him. But the pain was still etched deep in Ron’s expression. Severus looked up at him and Charlie shrugged slightly.

 

“How’re all my favourite boys?” he asked, in a forcefully cheerful voice, perching on the edge of Ron’s bed.

“Tired,” Severus answered for the three of them.

“And high enough to not be upset yet that he’s gone,” Ron murmured, his head lolling on the pillow into Charlie’s side. “What did you say, Charlie? You shouldn’t have chased him.”

“You never listened to me when I said that,” Charlie looked nervously away. “And look what I got for your meddling.”

“Mm, true,” Ron’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

 

The door opened then.

 

“I rule,” Charlie grinned, hopping off the bed and bending to squeeze Ron goodbye. “Sex in hospital beds doesn’t work, just so you know.”

 

Ron said nothing; his eyes were fixed on Draco in the doorway. They didn’t speak in the five seconds it took Charlie and Severus to leave the room and usher Draco through the door so that they could shut it.

  
“What do you think?” Severus asked tensely.

“I think he’ll stay,” Charlie smiled. “And thank Godric. You think I’m bad in a mood, you should try Ron.”

 

***

When Charlie landed on the sofa, it was nearing midnight. Ollie was finally asleep in a bed, as opposed to someone’s chest, and they were all exhausted. Charlie hadn’t left the hospital until his parents had come to relieve him, and they had noticed his obvious closeness to both Ollie and Severus, and had been interrogated.

 

His brain felt like a sponge. Charlie closed his eyes and moaned, tilting his head back to rest on the back cushions. Severus sat next to him, shoving a glass of something into his hand.

  
“You should go to bed,” the dark-haired man murmured disapprovingly.

“So should you,” Charlie muttered back. “We don’t _both_ need to stand guard at the nursery door.”

“I am doing nothing of the… oh, fine,” Severus took a gulp of the amber liquid in his glass. “Yes, that is _exactly_ what I’m doing.”

 

Charlie laughed and moaned as he shifted to rest his head on the man’s shoulder. “Too wound up for bed just yet.”

 

Severus hummed his agreement and, as he usually did, slipped his arm around Charlie’s shoulders.

 

 _Girl._ Charlie teased himself as he sank into the comforting embrace, enjoying the gentle warmth from the body that he would now always know as well as his own. He closed his eyes and inhaled; the relaxing scent was as special that night as it had been when he had first let Severus into his home after his near-miscarriage. It was a scent that would now always _mean_ home.

 

“We should be careful,” Severus mused. “Lucius, if released, will be angrier than chimaera, and will likely lash out where he sees happiness. When he finds out the child was not Ron’s…”

“Fucking prick doesn’t want to come near here, let me tell you,” Charlie growled into the dark shirt. “Ever.”

“So protective.”

“Shame it took my baby going missing to bring it out of me, huh?” the shame diluted into his tone before he could stop it. “I am never going to get used to this.”

 

Suddenly there was a soothing hand stroking through his curls. “It takes time. Don’t harangue yourself for how long you need… everyone is different.”

“But it just feels like I failed,” Charlie confessed. “That I should have loved him from the beginning, wanted to protect him…”  
“You did,” Severus protested. “The sling choice over the buggy, the way you used to watch from the nursery door… you did those things because you loved him, but you weren’t sure why you were doing them.”  
“I just feel like a twat,” Charlie sat up, his face blushing. “And I’m still not happy with what happened… I’ll never be…”

“Shh,” Severus kissed him to shut him up. “You carried him; we can do the rest together.”

“Alright,” Charlie shrugged. “But when he hates me when he’s older…”

“He loves you…”

 

Severus was pleading with dark eyes, his silent admission that he was too tired for the conversation to be repeated _again._

“Charlie… earlier this evening you repeatedly implied you were selfish,” Severus spoke again suddenly. “You are not, and have never been, selfish. You were suffering…”

“Agree to disagree?” Charlie winced. “It’s late. I feel selfish; let’s leave it at that, eh?”

“But the fact that you recognise it, doesn’t that tell you anything?”

“You’re far too clever for your own good,” Charlie scowled playfully, raising the glass to his lips for a deep sip.

“Get used to it,” Severus smirked, and leant forward for a kiss.

 

Charlie was content to know that he had the rest of his life to ‘get used to it’. Severus sat back again and looked at him with warm eyes. Charlie looked over the pale skin, black hair hanging in curtains around Severus’ narrow bone structure, the thin lips and overlarge nose. Severus was definitely not the sort of man he would ever have expected to settle down with.

 

But then Charlie had never expected to settle, at all.

 

He smiled, and gave Severus another kiss, smoothing one hand around a slender hip and squeezing. The gentle groan of appreciation was perfect. The smell, the mood, and the way that Severus opened up for him –the whole lot was perfection.

 

Severus opened his eyes then and looked at him, his eyes posing a silent question which no longer had to be asked aloud. Their intimacy was obvious; the world seemed far away outside the walls of his warm, homely little house whilst he sat on the sofa with the raven haired wizard who had fathered his child. The wizard that Charlie _loved._

 

“Yeah,” Charlie smiled, and kissed him again. His body flooded with relief. “I’m fine.”

 

_-fin-_


End file.
